I got stuck on the moor,
thirty wild horses by the bridge
I couldn't pass.

I was looking out to sea when suddenly,
a long sweeping line before me,
our gazes matched.

I stopped. They stopped.
A mare approached me, then a foal.

She sniffed me so close
her velvet nose
brushed my hand.

A good week for Seán Hewitt, Naoise Dolan and Helena Close

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Jonathan Coe: ‘All my influences were pushing me towards film and television’

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Agatha Christie: A realist writer who created true literary magic

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The Silence: Don DeLillo’s cutting commentary on a world dependent on technology

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And then we passed,
a slow procession against
the stillness of the mountain.

• Today's poem is from Grace Wilentz's debut collection, The Limit of Light (Gallery Press). She previously published a chapbook, Holding Distance (Green Bottle Press, 2019).