- Vol. 03
- Chapter 11
![](https://visualverse.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/connew_505x741_blackborder.jpg)
Image by Bruce Connew
Night Race
The crescent moon slashed the reflected stockadelike a bridle through the mouth that halted
all movement with a sudden jerk of the reins.
Pulled up, short of breath, panting,
pawing cracked earth, sweat shivering
on quivering flanks, tense with unreleased gallops.
The potential for speed, stilled in a
movement borrowed from the tide.