Anna Blake's Blog, page 46

Photo & Poem: Corgi Moon

The prairie rings with strange voices, this Wolf Moon

is owned by coyotes, less visible by day in dry winter

grass but the pond ice is covered with tracks come

morning. No lanky solo song, mating season means

the frozen air is wild with prairie carolers who wail a

primal scale of notes, yip the flats and sharps all night,

a challenge dance on glare ice, as horses watch safe

behind fences. Inside the house, my dog hears the

coyote call from deep slumber, launching into mid-air,

his legs scrambling before his eyes are open, crashing

the door jam, toenails screaming on linoleum until the

dog door slams. Then stock still, bark silent, he lifts

his nose to the night air. Is it something sacred that
he can’t quite recollect? Walking back slowly, he curls
into a soft fleece bed under the desk, watching me as
his eyes close, that’s right, we’re house dogs now.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine ProBlog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Our 2019 clinic schedule is filling. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Photo & Poem: Corgi Moon appeared first on Anna Blake.

Ta-Da! Meet Me at the R&F Barn.

Ta-Da! Join Me at the Barn.

Who knew I would love giving clinics this much? In the past, I’ve always done a scant few a year here in Colorado, but the last two years have run me full tilt around the globe. It’s a huge learning opportunity to be able to work with so many more horses and riders than I could by staying local. Apparently being a clinician is like riding; you improve the more time you spend in the saddle.

Designing my clinics, I try to combine my past experience attending clinics (some of the best and worst memories with my horses), with a method of teaching that I wish someone had used with me, and then season it all with my dearest wish for better understanding for horses living in a human world. A lofty goal, but I’m happy with how it’s going so far.

There’s a comment I hear often, “I can’t unsee this.” Initially, I took it as a compliment, hoping I’d done a good job describing and explaining. Horses always backed me up, standing next to me with their body language saying the thing I was verbalizing, and it was so obvious that we’d all laugh. I got wonderful testimonials and the people who came to my clinics were open-minded folks trying their best for their horses. It’s been a happy bubble. Sometimes people told me that they couldn’t find a local trainer like me, and I’d try to be humble and smile. I can be insufferably dense sometimes.

On the way to the hotel after a clinic, the organizer “complimented” me with an edge that I finally heard. She insisted she really had to quit her trainer and there were no other options. None. And commuting 7000 miles to ride with me wasn’t going to work. It was almost like I’d pulled the rug out from under her. I felt like apologizing.

With the same kind bluntness, she went on to tell me that she subscribed to two other trainers online, but she really wanted to subscribe to me online. Then we both acknowledged that I didn’t have an online program.

It isn’t that I hadn’t thought about it. Half my friends (I know both the trainers she followed) have them and they’re doing a good job. If I was to take it on, it would need to be different enough to be worthwhile, remain true to what I train, and offer value to followers. Not to mention my tiresome aesthetic requirements.

One more challenge, I’m not convinced we can learn the fine art of training from how-to videos where we sometimes do more damage than good for horses. What if this art of training should be passed hand to hand, human to horse, the old-fashioned and ridiculously limited way?

And is anyone as old-fashioned as me? I write, for crying out loud. Not with a quill, but low tech for sure. And I recently found out that blogs are terribly outdated now. Apparently, everyone has moved on, and here I am, close to nine years in with no plans for extinction. I’m a blogasaurus, the opposite of a T-Rex, I have spindly legs but very agile fingers.

The organizer and my friends are right, of course. I’ve been resistant but after that proper shove, the idea had a runaway in my skull. I asked advice, made some lists, bought a bunch of tech gear that I can’t figure out how to use, and made a start on my online program.

Rule one: It has to feel personal.
Audio blogs read by me.
Podcasts like where we breathe together in the saddle.
Short videos describing some of my favorite riding exercises.
Signal Speak: Reading calming signals on my videos and yours.
A re-organized library of past blogs grouped by topic.
Live chat opportunities.
Reduced rate for one-on-one time with me.
Q&A from members with answers longer than I can write on Facebook.
A mentor corner to share ideas among trainers and where I can form a list of local referrals.
Writing for Riders
Insert your best idea here. You are the one who knows.
My favorite part might be the daily quote.

It’s been a collaborative effort between my new tech goddess, a few mentors and friends, and me. The new website will roll out in January, with a subscription fee. Before that, I’ll be leaking bits and pieces over the next weeks.

Finally, the boulder blocking the path was what to call this place in cyberspace. Isn’t naming the hard part? Naturally, I over-thought it, then all the words ran together, most being overused and understated, or just plain lame. Cleverness bumped up against wordiness. Brain cells died painful deaths. Breathe, Anna. Less is more.

The things I hear most from readers and riders are that they feel isolated. They struggle with peers who are critical. Most want support with a different training approach saying old methods, “always felt wrong but it’s what I was taught.” And there is no place locally.

Then Edgar Rice Burro, the brains in the herd, sagely nodded, enthusiastic that I was inviting everyone to the barn. At first, I thought he misunderstood me but he’s so right, it’s just the best place I know. Let’s meet here at the Barn.

To be clear, the blog will continue exactly the same, and it will always be free! Free to read, free of sponsors, and free of ads. As free as a gallop, and as timeless as a cave painting. I’m a belligerent blogasaurus and that will not change.

You can still join us on Facebook here and here.

And if you want even more, something inclusive and deeper, join us in the Barn. We’re supportive, committed to learning and putting the horse first. We’re grateful to be part of a Relaxed & Forward tribe with the goal of changing the horse world for the better. Traveling has shown me that there are more of us than we think.

Oh. Edgar Rice Burro reminds me that if we’re going to be working with less intelligent creatures than him, meaning horses, we’ll need to keep a sense of humor, too.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine ProBlog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Planning our 2019 clinic schedule now. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Ta-Da! Meet Me at the R&F Barn. appeared first on Anna Blake.

Forward: Relaxed or Lazy?

Forward, having a ground-covering fluid gait, is the foundation of balance and comfort for a horse, mentally and physically. Horses gotta move.

Forward is also one of those concept words. There is a literal meaning, and then the meaning out-beyond, where ideas are more dynamic than words and the faint-at-heart quake. Forward is a way of movement but it’s also bright intention and positive attitude. It’s as mental as it is physical. True forward is the absence of stress or negative energy in the horse. He glides, he soars, he floats.

You know when you don’t see it: A gait that scurries, tight and short, with a tense poll and braced neck, is not forward. It’s energy but it isn’t free. 

Or you still don’t see it: A gait that drags its toes, lead in front, with some stumbling, his nose might push out, he needs to toss his head, his front end pulls instead of a push from behind. It’s energy even less free. 

To some degree, all horses are flip-floppers, different in the high noon sun than on a foggy crisp morning, or in a new place with strange horses than at home in the same old routine. Then there’s a bit of quirkiness for no reason you can know. That said, if a horse is not forward, the first thought should always be pain or lameness. Don’t take it for granted, really check him out. 

Reluctantly, you believe your horse is sound and not forward. You push him, but he doesn’t want to go. You’ve been told more leg, so now you nag, pounding on his sides, bearing down with your seat, and yakking to anyone you meet about your lazy hay-burner.

Be careful, the names you call your horse…

The second thought, if a horse isn’t forward, has to be the rider. To use your own indelicate term, are you lazy? Is your energy low? Your body restrictive or uncommunicative? Does your energy tend toward frustration rather than enthusiasm? Are you the one who’s not forward?

In the beginning, we are all taught to sit still in the saddle. Decent information for novice riders, especially horse-crazy girls so excited they bounce. Is there a time when that stillness in the saddle works against us? Groundwork is no different, are our feet the ones filled with lead? Over time, has that quiet body become sedentary, even a bit like a cinderblock?

Think of it this way: In order to partner with a horse, we need to become physically connected with his movement but also mentally forward. We need to be the energy he needs in that moment. Instead of reacting to what just happened, we want to be thinking ahead to better forward.

About now, you get a training aid, maybe spurs or a whip, and you use them to manipulate the conversation, to have your way. To be clear, I have no issue with the correct use of either aid, but they were never intended for use by lazy riders.

If the horse is quick, tense, and hollow, the rider must adjust her energy to embody quiet confidence and safety, soft sit bones and lots of exhaling to cue relaxation. Make simple, steady transitions that are easily rewarded, show him the way back to forward balance and rhythm.

If the horse is heavy and slow, the rider must adjust her energy again; check yourself first. Be honest about stiffness in your own body, and any judgment or restriction in your mind. Are you riding like someone who’s been made to feel wrong every day of her life? Are you looking for something to punish or something to cheer? Can you be Ginger Rogers to his Fred Astaire and then vice versa?

Start here: Put a smile on your face and crank up the music. Remind yourself that you love horses.

If it’s groundwork, shake out your body, release your jaw. Feel your feet on the soil, your head cleared by the air deep in your lungs. Let energy rise in your core. As you cue, continue that life-affirming breath, move with intention and rhythm. Start right where the horse is and build slowly from there. Embody a confidence that draws your horse to you.

In the saddle, ask for a walk but instead of judging his movement, check in with your own. You need the warm-up as much as he does; breathe into stiff joints, remind your shoulder blades where they belong, stride along feeling the change of how your shirt moves at your waist. Can your ankles relax so your legs fold softly around your horse’s barrel? Can your thighs release to allow your seat deeper in the saddle, each stride met with the release of your sit bone? No resistance.

Now, remember transitions are the key to connection.

A horse’s training can progress being screamed at by a drill sergeant, or by being inspired by the light-hearted praise of an equal. Your choice but it’s obvious one is much harder to maintain than the other. To be positive, listening, and engaged in every stride takes great mental strength. We tend to think of a riding ambition as a bad thing, but what if we were ambitious about aware in the moment and energetic? Isn’t that where we need to meet our horses?

On the ground or in the saddle, use two words to answer your horse’s efforts; Yes and Good. It’s your job to come up with questions that would set your horse up to receive those answers.

Time passes and you’ve both done some great work. You’ve been light and energetic. He has been forward and responsive. Can you tell when your horse begins to tire?

Now you are looking for the slightest loss of forward, but for all the right reasons. Be so present in the ride that you can stop just before either of you want to. Finish strong and both you and your horse will come to the next ride with best expectations.

…

[Last week, lameness. This week, laziness. Next week, what your horse wishes I’d said in the first place.]

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine Pro

Blog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Our 2019 clinic schedule is filling. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Forward: Relaxed or Lazy? appeared first on Anna Blake.

Relaxed or Lazy?

Forward, having a ground-covering fluid gait, is the foundation of balance and comfort for a horse, mentally and physically. Horses gotta move.

Forward is also one of those concept words. There is a literal meaning, and then the meaning out-beyond, where ideas are more dynamic than words and the faint-at-heart quake. Forward is a way of movement but it’s also bright intention and positive attitude. It’s as mental as it is physical. True forward is the absence of stress or negative energy in the horse. He glides, he soars, he floats.

You know when you don’t see it: A gait that scurries, tight and short, with a tense poll and braced neck, is not forward. It’s energy but it isn’t free. 

Or you still don’t see it: A gait that drags its toes, lead in front, with some stumbling, his nose might push out, he needs to toss his head, his front end pulls instead of a push from behind. It’s energy even less free. 

To some degree, all horses are flip-floppers, different in the high noon sun than on a foggy crisp morning, or in a new place with strange horses than at home in the same old routine. Then there’s a bit of quirkiness for no reason you can know. That said, if a horse is not forward, the first thought should always be pain or lameness. Don’t take it for granted, really check him out. 

Reluctantly, you believe your horse is sound and not forward. You push him, but he doesn’t want to go. You’ve been told more leg, so now you nag, pounding on his sides, bearing down with your seat, and yakking to anyone you meet about your lazy hay-burner.

Be careful, the names you call your horse…

The second thought, if a horse isn’t forward, has to be the rider. To use your own indelicate term, are you lazy? Is your energy low? Your body restrictive or uncommunicative? Does your energy tend toward frustration rather than enthusiasm? Are you the one who’s not forward?

In the beginning, we are all taught to sit still in the saddle. Decent information for novice riders, especially horse-crazy girls so excited they bounce. Is there a time when that stillness in the saddle works against us? Groundwork is no different, are our feet the ones filled with lead? Over time, has that quiet body become sedentary, even a bit like a cinderblock?

Think of it this way: In order to partner with a horse, we need to become physically connected with his movement but also mentally forward. We need to be the energy he needs in that moment. Instead of reacting to what just happened, we want to be thinking ahead to better forward.

About now, you get a training aid, maybe spurs or a whip, and you use them to manipulate the conversation, to have your way. To be clear, I have no issue with the correct use of either aid, but they were never intended for use by lazy riders.

If the horse is quick, tense, and hollow, the rider must adjust her energy to embody quiet confidence and safety, soft sit bones and lots of exhaling to cue relaxation. Make simple, steady transitions that are easily rewarded, show him the way back to forward balance and rhythm.

If the horse is heavy and slow, the rider must adjust her energy again; check yourself first. Be honest about stiffness in your own body, and any judgment or restriction in your mind. Are you riding like someone who’s been made to feel wrong every day of her life? Are you looking for something to punish or something to cheer? Can you be Ginger Rogers to his Fred Astaire and then vice versa?

Start here: Put a smile on your face and crank up the music. Remind yourself that you love horses.

If it’s groundwork, shake out your body, release your jaw. Feel your feet on the soil, your head cleared by the air deep in your lungs. Let energy rise in your core. As you cue, continue that life-affirming breath, move with intention and rhythm. Start right where the horse is and build slowly from there. Embody a confidence that draws your horse to you.

In the saddle, ask for a walk but instead of judging his movement, check in with your own. You need the warm-up as much as he does; breathe into stiff joints, remind your shoulder blades where they belong, stride along feeling the change of how your shirt moves at your waist. Can your ankles relax so your legs fold softly around your horse’s barrel? Can your thighs release to allow your seat deeper in the saddle, each stride met with the release of your sit bone? No resistance.

Now, remember transitions are the key to connection.

A horse’s training can progress being screamed at by a drill sergeant, or by being inspired by the light-hearted praise of an equal. Your choice but it’s obvious one is much harder to maintain than the other. To be positive, listening, and engaged in every stride takes great mental strength. We tend to think of a riding ambition as a bad thing, but what if we were ambitious about aware in the moment and energetic? Isn’t that where we need to meet our horses?

On the ground or in the saddle, use two words to answer your horse’s efforts; Yes and Good. It’s your job to come up with questions that would set your horse up to receive those answers.

Time passes and you’ve both done some great work. You’ve been light and energetic. He has been forward and responsive. Can you tell when your horse begins to tire?

Now you are looking for the slightest loss of forward, but for all the right reasons. Be so present in the ride that you can stop just before either of you want to. Finish strong and both you and your horse will come to the next ride with best expectations.

…

[Last week, lameness. This week, laziness. Next week, what your horse wishes I’d said in the first place.]

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine Pro

Blog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Our 2019 clinic schedule is filling. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Relaxed or Lazy? appeared first on Anna Blake.

Travelblog: Addressing the Vegetarian Haggis

And again, sorry if this is a repeat, but it was time for the blog to come home to roost…

Relaxed & Forward: AnnaBlakeBlog

Edinburgh, Scotland. The first moments in a new country are never the best. You’ve slept in your clothes, but they aren’t that wrinkled because you’ve sat up in a cramped seat on a plane all night. Since they don’t really give you anything to eat on planes, fewer food stains, I suppose that’s better, but the support hose are choking your ankles. Oh, the romance of travel!

Stop one is the border agent. I usually draw attention because I look like someone who should be retired but I have a work visa. “What is the purpose of your visit?” I tell him I’m a clinician. Quizzical eyebrows. I try to describe the work I do, which probably sounds like anything but work. The agent holds my passport up and looks from the passport to me and back again. “How’s that?” I tell him that groups of riders invite me…

View original post 1,500 more words

Travelblog: Shall I Be Mother?

Sorry if this is a repeat, but it was time for the blog to come home to roost…

Relaxed & Forward: AnnaBlakeBlog

Say hello to Bruce. He is the spokesmodel for The 2018 Long Ears Tour, an unexpected title bestowed on my last stop in England. My head was still spinning but a tourist usually stands around blinking, almost always the last one to figure anything out. Best to celebrate awkwardness, I think. Thank you, Bruce. Very handsome.

It’s my new hobby; I’m a tourist. That means among other things, I hold out my hand and ask shopkeepers to pick out the money they want. It’s tourist math, I smile and say thank you. And this thing called jet lag; depending on direction, shouldn’t it be called jet spurt? Any other reason for me being bright-eyed alert at 2am?

Wimborne Minster, cream tea.

My real job is being a clinician; I arrive at a horse facility where a group of horses and riders are organized for two or three days of equine…

View original post 1,107 more words

Travelblog Photo &Poem: Dog Hair

Reviewing talking points, morning

coffee cooling in a contemporary

hotel room eight thousand miles

from my prairie farm. Dressing for

a teaching day, I unpack the red

vest to find a few stray white hairs,

thinner than my own, reminding

me of the one at home who doesn’t

know I have a job, the one who misses

me too much. Home-sweetness seeps

into the air, “Good dog,” recalibrating

my posture, not brushing them away.

…





Anna Blake at Infinity Farm


Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine Pro
Blog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon


…

Planning our 2019 clinic schedule now. Email me at ambfarm@gmail.com for details.
Check out the 2018 schedule here.

Photo & Poem: Snapshot

How did these things get so old,
when I remember as if just a week
has passed? This snapshot of a girl
sitting cross-legged with a dog, grass

and a zinnia garden behind. Years have
faded the colors flat, but I know that place.
I recall she was still in her teens then,
living tough on her own. Looking into the

lens without a mask, her face was plain
with longing, a naked yearning so keen
for a thing bigger than she could name.
Why is she so much easier to love at

this far distance? I recall the yellow pup
pressed against her knee died within
months of that summer afternoon and
that t-shirt made me feel self-conscious.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine ProBlog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Our 2019 clinic schedule is filling. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Photo & Poem: Snapshot appeared first on Anna Blake.

Training Issue or Pain?

“My horse won’t go forward,” she says. Are you sure he isn’t in pain?

“No, he’s fine. No signs of lameness.”   Not going forward is a sign of lameness.

“Oh.”

When is a horse trainer an amateur veterinarian? Every day. Soundness must be the first question when we start anything with a horse. We all acknowledge it’s true, we love horses, after all. It’s an intellectual awareness that can be hard to remember in an emotional moment.

Head-bobbing lameness is obvious, by that time the pain is front and center. An injury can show up undeniably, but subtle lameness is harder to recognize. If there’s resistance where there usually isn’t any, have a closer “feel.” Perhaps the horse’s transitions up or down are a little sticky. He might be reluctant to canter or have an unwillingness to come to the mounting block. Perhaps, you think you imagine a slight unevenness, not limping but a subtle weakness or tension. Or maybe not.

Instead, we think it’s a training issue. It’s a flash of ego or some dark Neanderthal warning that we can’t let our horse win. He needs to respect us. Usually, we just want to ride, that’s all.

It doesn’t go well so we start by asking a barn friend or for online advice. It explodes and everyone has an opinion. Suddenly, it’s an information runaway. You have training techniques to get a horse forward coming out of your ears, and as you jump from one to another, the more confused you get, and the worse your horse is. It really feels like a training issue now.

Back to square one: The only way a horse has to tell us he’s in pain is through his behavior. We can misread that, decide the behavior needs to be corrected, and train him it’s not safe to show his vulnerability.

An example: A horse doesn’t want to canter because his back is sore. So, the rider canters the horse another ten minutes, to get him over his disobedience. Or we think girthiness is just normal. Or we don’t notice when his eyes go very still and dark.

I don’t blame you for hoping for anything but a nebulous lameness. Fixing a canter is easy in comparison.

Perhaps you’re at the other end of the continuum. You know your horse is acting strangely but he looks okay. It’s something you almost feel more than see, but you’re sure something’s not right. So, you call your vet for a lameness check. Maybe an ultrasound, radiographs, and a decent sized check written.

“Nothing I can find,” your vet says

They might literally teach that sentence in vet school. It took me a while to hear it literally. It doesn’t mean there isn’t something wrong, it means just what is said. The vet found nothing. Beyond that, it says something about science, as well. We’ve come so far, but sometimes the source of pain can’t be found. The horse can’t say, and vet science is still an art. Is there anything more crazy-making than a nebulous lameness?

Back near the dawn of time, I had a young horse who was being very “rebellious”, and my trainer and I were working him through it. During one ride, his poll was so tense that he whacked me in the skull. I guess it knocked sense into me, I didn’t recognize my good boy. Finally, I called the vet, almost secretly, telling her that I thought something was wrong and was ready to be embarrassed when she told me I was being a ninny.

My vet was the kind who thought her clients knew their horses and she had a suggestion. She asked me to leave him in a stall and she came in about forty-eight hours. He was dead lame when I led him out. It was a suspensory injury that took a year and a half to heal. In hindsight, easy to diagnose and not nebulous at all. Since I prided myself on our miraculously profound and deep connection, I felt both guilty of neglect and mad that he didn’t tell me. Silly me.

He’s a horse and being stoic is smart. A prey animal who shows weakness attracts predators, but it can be an issue in his own herd as well. It’s common-horse-sense to hide vulnerabilities, a matter of life and death for him. Being stoic is actually a strength when you see it from his side.

When someone tells me they know their horse is sound, it gives me a bittersweet feeling. Part nostalgia for the last time I had the confidence to think soundness was a finite, knowable thing, and part sad begrudging respect for the horse’s ability to endure.

For all their strength and beauty, horses are also badly designed. They have tiny feet and large bodies. Their digestive system is very particular. I can’t help but think that the stifle is like a personal Bermuda Triangle.

Most of us are taught to push through riding challenges, but we must learn to recognize pain as well. Minor lameness needs time to heal. If we don’t pay attention or send the horse back to work too soon, minor issues become chronic lameness and we damage the horse’s willing good temperament as well as destroying his physical strength.

About now, a cynic should chime in that they don’t feel great either. Pain is how you can tell you’re alive. “It’s a long way from his heart, get to work.” Maybe the ultimate insult, “You’re babying your horse!”

Fine. More bad advice from railbirds. Why do humans value suffering so much?

Talking about lameness is the most depressing thing. Healing can be elusive, and years can be lost. There is no guarantee that by owning a horse that you will also be riding one. Horses are heartbreakers, but we aren’t quitters.

Wouldn’t it be great if hindsight could work in our favor for once?

This is a longwinded way to remind riders that the warm-up is the most crucial part of the ride. It takes twenty minutes for the synovial fluid to warm the joints of a young, sound horse. Twenty minutes feels like forever, but a slow, thorough warm-up is insurance for a horse’s longevity, the only forever that matters. Strength and suppleness must be the priority because soundness is the first requirement for any training.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine ProBlog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Our 2019 clinic schedule is filling. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Training Issue or Pain? appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Old Guests

Told to fear the dark, my tiny legs bolted

the breathless distance from the milking barn

across to the house, a yard-light pale enough

to cause more fear than relief. Over my

shoulder, the panicked movement of my own

shadow, distorted by monsters on my heels,

their yellow triangle teeth snarled below

blood-red eyes. Slam the screen door, safe

inside, only to know they’d be waiting, certain
death in the attic crawlspace next to my bed.
Just now finished with the night feed, strolling
out on this moonless prairie to close my farm

gate, worn house-slippers on tired feet, weaving
my path from the barn around behind the
outbuilding, nodding to elderly monsters who
loiter by the fence line, taking in the night air.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine ProBlog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon

Join us at Relaxed & Forward Tribe, Intl., with Anna Blake

Our 2019 clinic schedule is filling. Email ambfarm@gmail.com for hosting details or to be added to the email list.

The post Photo & Poem: Old Guests appeared first on Anna Blake.