Kneaded relief

by Mark Munzert

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

Horses do more for me than I do for them.

It had been one of those days that left me stressed.

Me, and those around me were not at our best.

It had been too many days of upheaval

And too many times that good lost to evil.

Nothing was going right

And every try turned to fight.

We needed to get out, take a break.

Decompress for everyone’s sake.

I cannot explain the forces.

I was drawn to nearby horses.

It could have gone another way,

Jack Daniels or a multiple beer foray.

But I laid my hands on instead.

Mostly low heads while they fed.

Geldings, three in all.

Not mine, but I knew them all.

Sans my normal greeting,

Large muscles I began kneading.

I rubbed their withers, haunches, top line and ears

Chest, neck, under-bellies, all without fears.

They were relaxed, they knew the deal,

They knew how being there made me feel.

A head lifts, I found a knot.

Leg cocks, ‘yeah, that’s the spot.’

I had lost the edge in our non-verbal exchange,

Roamed from stressed to calm at home on their range.

My hands were blackened absorbing the dirt

I have no regrets about that once white shirt.

The silt ‘tween my fingers felt so good as I walked away.

I got the kneaded relief on that day.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

Horses do more for me than I do for them.

Mark Munzert has been branded ‘the Cowboy Poet of the Northeast’ as his present home is in upstate New York’s Mountains region. The ranch-hand, descendant of horse-folk, cow-losopher performs regularly at Western events, dude ranches, and many Cowboy Gatherings. Contact him at 315.480.7586 or

2019-02-25T14:57:39-05:00February 25th, 2019|Mane Stream Articles|0 Comments

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