They Spill
As the herd saunters by on the narrow road
They meander down the hill
Picking up speed as each hoof falls
Until they spill out in the wide pasture
Galloping free in the open prairie
Reminding of days long ago
When boundaries were undefined
And fences didn't divert the flow
Picture is of part of the mob running free. About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-103B)
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