Pegasus

The field had no fence high enough. Pegasus took the air, a white horse with feathered wings, hooves leaving the grass without a sound. People on the ground felt the dark of that shadow pass over their faces and did not call out. They kept a pegasus gift of that lift. It comes back in pegasus playing cards that feel light when they leave the hand, in a pegasus notebook whose first page stays almost empty, in a pegasus postcard of the wing and the white neck. The grass stands up again. The horse does not come down.