malkhut shebtiferet
We say no to far away and find the yes to here. I make it up the hills without shifting gears.
Close to the rest of the herd, but somehow outside the fence, a cow stands and waits for change to come.
The prairie dogs watch from their mounds, except for those underground, those not looking, and the one dead on the road.
I bleed through, and my pad chafes, but the sun is setting, so we ride, find balance, do what’s gloriously possible.
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