At first, I am a mountain,

And the appy,

Recently orphaned,

Is happily in my face.

Since she’s there,

I use her back for balance,

Mucking boot in air,

It is the dancer’s pose,

And I hold it,

As she holds me.

The herd gathers ’round

For the warrior,

And the Goddess,

A protective circle

Of equine largess.

Did I mention the snow,

Or how the sun shown

In bright celebration

Upon it?