Like a Long Sighing of Wind

“Like a long sighing of wind in trees it begins, 

then they sweep into sight, borne now upon a

cloud of phantom dust. 

They rush past, forward leaning 

in the saddles, with brandished arms, beneath 

whipping ribbons from slanted and eager lances; 

with tumult and soundless yelling they sweep 

past like a tide whose crest is jagged with the 

wild heads of horses and the brandished arms 

of men like the crater of the world in explosion.” 

~ William Faulkner, Light in August