Hoofprints cross the dust from wild to tame, A herd once loose now answers to a name. Grit and glare and distance and dust, grit and glare and distance and dust. Gaze that scanned for lions scans a fence instead, Knowledge comes after the yoke is bred. Grit and glare and distance and dust, grit and glare and distance and dust. For a moment the fence is only rope, for a moment the herd could simply roam— then muscle remembers the pull of the slope, and the body chooses safety over shock. Desert remembers what the herd forgot, Insight surfaces too late to loosen the yoke. Grit and glare and distance and dust, grit and glare and distance and dust. The gate stood unlatched. Nobody noticed. Nobody crossed.
