So - I was walking away from the mad old lady who lived on the hill
the mad old lady who'd never got over the birth of her daughter back
in the bad old days they strapped her legs up for a week the daughter
who'd never got over it either and killed herself leaving a son who'd
never got over it either - I must have thought of the palomino mare
who lay down in the paddock the way a horse doesn't lay down unless
she can't stand anymore and I opened that door so - the very shadows
of hundreds of horses surrounded me crowding me in out of the air
there were hundreds of them I stopped to stare - they said walk
they said walk walk walk with us I walked and they walked with me
hundreds of horses on their beautiful legs necks bending and dipping
their fine eyes watching me taking the light and making it live
I walked with them the great herd of horses to the end of the street
they went the same way they came feeling their way stepping away
round the corner so - there are hundreds of horses walking with me.