safe

Young Emily parades through the wild daisies in the field behind the old barn. The wind carves elegant slashes in the wildflowers shaving random rows and raising others. She chases like a lost soul finding her calling. Chasing what cannot be chased, but can be found. The sound of the wind is interrupted by smooshing and gnawing. Her old friend stood munching on a mouthful of daisies. The young stallion. Her savior. She hops on his back and feels the warmth of his main under her chin. Wrapping her arms around his neck she steadies herself and they take of just like every other day. She feels secure on his back. Safe. Saved.