Aside the Sky & Orange Sun

Short poem

A horse?
Of course,
not quite,
but white
with stripes so black,
they clone the night.
Aside the sky and orange sun,
across the dusty plains you run.

So fast,
at last.
So light
and bright,
but then you slip,
back out of sight.
Aside the sky and orange sun
and on the dusty plains your none.