springride
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She gallops toward me.
I watch transfixed as her flaxen mane is grabbed
By the invisible fingers of the wind.
She whinnies with sheer delight at seeing me.
As I'm in the round pen preparing to ride
She dances left to right, so I can not get on
As if her steps aside gave her the chance to hide
I finally got on, and we headed towards the lawn
We started moving unrestricted
