I saw a gang of wild ponies
Out on the prairie sward,
With a coal black stallion,
Who was leading on the horde.
He had one white stocking
And a star upon his head,
With mares and colts a'plenty
All hale and quite well fed.
He moved them like a general
To keep them safe and whole
Leading them to new pastures,
Safe havens to raise each foal.
They were made up of every color
From blonde and chestnut, to mousy gray,
And they gathered all close together,
To be safe at the end of day.
But there was one lone mare
Who stood off from all the rest.
She didn’t join the herd
Just stared towards the west.
She was a sway-back pinto,
Whose ribs stood out bare enough to count,
And it seemed like the next strong breeze
Would be more than she could surmount.
Yet I saw her every day
Throughout the Spring and Fall,
And each day I was surprised
To still see her standing tall.
It seemed to me she was waiting,
But for what, I could not tell.
A friend, a mate—I was not sure—
Or maybe heaven’s clarion bell.
I looked for her when winter broke,
And the snow and ice were gone.
I found the herd, new foals and all,
Running through the desert dawn.
The mob was all still standing,
But of the mare, there was no sight
Perhaps she found what she was looking for
Out in the desert night.