She crouches slightly to see the horses –
a grey and a bay – through the wire fence.
They are eating windfalls of sweet chestnuts.
She watches them fully open the cupules
with their teeth then tongues to eat the nuts.
They notice her, feel safe to approach.
She is not much bigger than either of
their heads. Each half a ton, they walk with the grace
and circumspection of fifty million years.
They bend their heads towards her. Fearlessly,
she offers them grass. Gently, they take it.