I could feel it when I stepped outside
I thought it . . .
I went out into the dust expecting the sun to be unfriendly.
The sky was fairly clearAs I worked the young foals, I saw the streaks striping the airJust one or two . . . at first
I wondered if they were aware of the sky becoming darker
The cloud came over the hillsshielding us from the sun's heat I saw the sparse drops sucked up into the dry groundleaving little pock marks in the dust and dark . . brown . . wet . . . streaks on the golden hair of the young horsesIt was the first experience for those not yet born this spring!They seemed unfazedI was torn between standing there in the humid air
and writing this!