infrared

The good horse balks
At something sensed;
So rider knows it too.
An animal connecting
The thing, perception, you.

The eyes glance round and
Will would press on but
Wait for confirmation.
You know this horse is true,
Senses something here.

The small hairs raise,
Ganglia flash and small breaths
Through the nose
Smell nothing.

But by your steed,
You know danger is nigh.

You hold your reigns and
Pace slow
And arrive
By instrumentation.