At dverse tonight the prompt from Mish is to write a Quadrille (a poem of 44 words) including the word shift or a derivative of that.
When wind reaches a certain velocity
it shape-shifts into wild horses
that charge ahead.
Flaming hoofs,
manes of streaming water,
eyes rolling,
not in fear
but for the joy
of being unleashed.
You ask me
about my emotions.
What more can I tell you.
welshstream 