When the dew lies cool in the day’s eyes, beyond
the umbelliferous lace of napkin fields
morning horses toss and fret, and rooks stalk
among the stubble.
Those “morning horses” were not as quiet as the ones in the Ted Hughes poem, where the narrator “[…] climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark” before coming across the horses: “Grey silent fragments/ Of a grey silent world.”
It was a grey day today, and quiet enough, though not silent, when I spied the ears in the top photograph while I was out for a walk.
Naturally, I crossed the road to try and get a better view of the creature who stood “megalith-still” in the yard beyond the wall. But there was no access to the yard and the angles were difficult, so I was unable to find out much about the magnificent animal, although I don’t think it was a very close relation to yesterday’s small equine.
I guess I’ll just have to accept that it’s a dark horse and hope it doesn’t give me nightmares.