Poet Ellen Bass and novelist and memoirist Mark Spragg will team up for a reading during our upcoming festival. The two are good friends and tremendously look forward to the event.

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They did not know who we were. They did not know that we were horseboys. That we looked for hazard through the large, dark eyes of horses. That we scented the earth and the wind that moved across the earth, with wide, open nostrils. That we felt the gravity in river water against our legs and stomachs, that our feet became hooves that skated for balance on the round and moss-covered rocks of streambeds. They did not know that we nibbled at the world with blunt, soft lips.

- Mark Spragg, from Where Rivers Change Direction

I was a boy, and I believed deeply in the sightedness of horses. I believed there was nothing they did not witness. I believed that to have a horse between my legs, to extend my pulse and blood and energy to theirs, enhanced my vision. Made of me a seer. I believed them to be the dappled, sorrel, roan, bay, black pupils in the eyes of God.

- Mark Spragg, from Where Rivers Change Direction