Tasting sawdust traveling backwards
You're spitting into the barnyard
You're standing near the water trough
Brimming with water and swimming Spanish moss

One of the horses tangled herself
Snorting bloody wild in the barbed-wire
Bringing grandfather near
Whistling gentle low

Hands that knew the heart of horses
Reined in the day then
Hallowed the dew left from
The breath of the pasture