His shadow wanders in a tawny field
an interlude with earth and beast
inhaling musky air
He has a waning personality
unrestrained by life's affairs
rapidly searching for dying passion
Secluding himself from mystic pleas
when his fair mistress drizzles tears
his season need not matter
He remains reminiscent of his spring
and here in this field he reviles his colors
the wind rustles through the green
Though he knows the calendar by the sun
he sustains the reason he will always live in summer
contradicting his thoughts on change
His challenge now is bones atop a great hill
where he managed to remain unrestrained
yet he lingers by the lake gazing in his mirror
Humans continually try to amend their treatment of him
he lives life with undying passion
not worried for friend or foe yet to live alone in his home
One day he too shall pass with the circle of life
and no longer feel the sting of winter or chill of rain,
today he is honored;
The great stallion with the long flowing mane