grandmother told the little girl
to never follow a white horse
across the moors
as such creatures lured people
to fairy realms far away
when the girl didn't think that
sounded so bad
her grandmother told her
'there's no pizza over there'
the horrified child decided
she had best stay on earth
the girl grew up, as children do
ventured to the city, into marriage
into days of drudgery and despair
she returned home older, thicker, smarter
she began to walk the moors each day
and found joy in her increasing strength
in the gorgeous isolation
of bracken and birdsong
when the white horse emerged
from the mist one day, the woman
considered the steed as he
considered her
after a moment, the horse nodded
then turned away, at a slow amble
she hesitated for only a moment
then followed
ready and willing to be lured
she hadn't enjoyed pizza
for years, anyway