She lets us touch her neck, her back, that beautiful,
old, black mustang. Cautiously, we flank her
and stroke her taut sides, our hands full of praise.
Her large gray eyes droop. She begins to drool.
Joe laughs, saying she is so at ease
she is about to fall asleep.
I am thinking of how every morning I take
calcium, B-vitamins, drink water with lemon,
believing small daily habits make a big difference
over time. Perhaps it is the same with awe—
spending even a few moments a day touching
something greater than we are will eventually
change who we are inside. I believe that tonight,
moved as I am by the surprising softness of her hips,
the trust she conveys with her stillness, my palm
moving slowly against her side. Her ease becomes
my ease as I watch my daughter rest her forehead
on the mustang’s withers. The great being’s trust
becomes my trust as the sunset turns
the whole world to amber, to gold.