The legend of the mustang-
By: Chelcia Tilbury
Galloping freely, hooves against fresh spring grass. Running wild untamed and free. To my right is my mother running with long controlled strides almost as if floating. She’s leading the herd. To my left… the rest of the herd. I look right and see my mother fall back from lead and then looks at me. Finally, my moment of glory has come. I run faster and stronger than I ever have before, taking the herd onto the great plains, always running. Now I am truly free.
As I lead the herd to a stream to rest and graze I think of all the horses such as I that had to fight their way to final glory. As I recall, there was only one day of the true final glory of all horses alike. We younger stallions call it
By: Chelcia Tilbury
Galloping freely, hooves against fresh spring grass. Running wild untamed and free. To my right is my mother running with long controlled strides almost as if floating. She’s leading the herd. To my left… the rest of the herd. I look right and see my mother fall back from lead and then looks at me. Finally, my moment of glory has come. I run faster and stronger than I ever have before, taking the herd onto the great plains, always running. Now I am truly free.
As I lead the herd to a stream to rest and graze I think of all the horses such as I that had to fight their way to final glory. As I recall, there was only one day of the true final glory of all horses alike. We younger stallions call it