i didn’t know horses could swim, not like that

I didn’t know horses could swim, not like that. It was late, and I felt kind of naked, alone in the park at night. I like to be spontaneous, grab my long coat and leave my phone behind. I pass by someone, unassuming, act natural. It’s just me and them. And the birds. A mother goose and her babies feed on the green grass up ahead. it’s been raining for days, the fields look the color of clover and seafoam. Mama goose hisses as i walk past, forcing me into a puddle. my feet are bare. Her hiss is drowned out by the music in my ears. I am singing and dancing in the light rain, it’s late and i feel kind of naked. A black cat appears to my right, meows and meows to me and then chases after a pair of ducks. She almost gets them before they fly away, back onto the lake. 

I take a break under the awning, the same two ducks pass by. the water moves behind them like a cape. I can’t feel the rain but I see it on the water. it drops delicately from the sky. the lake, dark and still, drinks it in. i look up. The moon appears behind dark clouds. when i look back at the water, it’s shaking. Something’s shifted.

Across the park there’s a figure tall and slow walking. They’re far away, but I feel their presence. it moves closer, into the light of the moon. I can see it now. A horse is at the top of the hill at Powderhorn Park. It takes one step, unsure, and then barrels down. Hooves hard against the wet grass. I’m afraid they’ll slip and fall, but they run into the lake, scaring the swimming birds into flight. I don’t know if i’m breathing anymore. The horse kicks its legs towards the island, and arrives quickly, before diving back in.They’re moving towards me but i stay still. pretend to be a tree; hold my legs firmly to the ground. My arms go up, break like branches. I am frozen in the wind. 

The horse’s legs pull out of the water, their body large and protective. Eyes a deep brown, and curious. They smell me, my bare feet, my frightened face. Their coat is red, with spats of gray. Their mane silver. I gather the courage to move, and once I do the horse bows to me. I bow in response, my hands pressed together, thumbs to forehead. My movements are achingly slow. Even once i’m finished, they stay down, and i have a feeling, deep in me, that they’d like me to get on their back. So i do. Ever so carefully, i mount them as if i’d done it many times before. It feels so right, being there, with horse powderhorn. Tilly is her name. She whispers that to me. Tilly.

We turn and walk into the lake. The water splashes loudly with her footsteps; it’s cold; i brace myself. Under we go.

I breathe the water like its air. I don’t just feel naked now: i am. Deep under powderhorn park, swimming with Tilly, and the fish, and the ducks and the cranes. the water isn’t brown, like on the surface. it’s a delicious teal, and moonlight streams through it. We play until sunrise, when Tilly takes me home. She drops me off in front of my apartment; i am still naked. I hold my wet clothes close to my chest as we say goodbye. She sniffs my face before leaving. The sun is red as I go inside.