The Judas

From the minute
he is let out
of the stock
trailer gate

photographers
click pictures of him
quickly before
they lose sight
of him.

Writers groom
old-day words,
sepia-toned
and
copper-colored
words

that won't need
edited
when they
make it
that far,

they are at
the top
of intelligent
mustang clan
symbols.

The dust
polished off
of mustang speak
with red
bandannas,

western words
fit for a
western happening;
"squaw-hold," "15-hands,"
"dude string" ...
where the pavement
ends and the West
begins!

He is the Judas.
So named because
he will betray the
wild herd,
leading them to a
hiding place
near the funnel
and wall of
burlap netting,

a trap to capture
the wilds
hanging from
gaping rimrock.

You can't look
at the Judas
as a traitor.

He is a friend to
the mustangs,

helping them on
to better pastures,

where they will be
adopted by those
who will give
them a simpler
life,

taking them
out of the
harshness of
the desert.

The Judas was
a wild himself
at one time.

That's why he can
do his job
so well.

He knows the
terrain

and all the
tricks of survival.

His wild heritage
and the
danger of
losing the bloodline

self-spurs the
Judas to outrun
a wildfire in
Colorado.

Saves his wild breed
by stamping out
the Judas Code,

letting out a
series of whinnies.
..__(Hoof it)__..__(Fire!)
..__..(Outlaw Red).

The roan mare
he went back
for, when his
sweaty muzzle
caressed her
muzzle,

she opened her
eyes glazed over
by fire ash,

her thinking she
surely must have
died,

and went
through the
burlap gates

with bronze sculptures
of the Judas
glued down
on the gateposts,

HERO OF THE WILDS.

 

Copyright 2005 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist