There's no Danger here

Horses sleep standing. 

In the dog-throat dark predawn they smell, hear, sense me. 
Primal fear un-blurs their shapes from the black and they run, 
oh, how they run. 

Hooves thunder, lightning screams tear the limpid air 
With no sight to steer they circle, 
and circle. 

Me, gyroscope-frozen in their gimble 
Them, centrifuge-driven in their heart-bursting dread, 
their heart-bursting dread. 

Morning whispers her ease, sings the black to grey 
Five-sensed again our pulses drop; there’s no danger here, she says 
there’s really, truly, no danger here.