Naysayers

I once found a horse

on my walk back home

as white as Shadowfax

or the light of a dream

every window on the street

as black and glassy

as the eyes before me

we ran together

past the sleeping gnomes

and forgotten phone box

until the stud pulled away

I watched it clip-clop

to the top of the hill

beyond the traffic lights

I searched for it everywhere 

in the news the next day

but not a word 

nor a neigh

I wonder if it ended up

someplace like this 

with officers

sat high above

overseeing the crowd

controlling the streets

the atmosphere

the beast

suppressing 

the natural

reasonable urge

to roam free