turmoil of darkness giving way
to the early morning
the horses the horses
waking too early i hear them straining
at their locked stable doors
half undressed i stumble
untied laces, carpeted stairs, tripping
to their doors, cold wind biting
dawning sun as pink as april's full moon
through the clouds it glows that everlasting lantern
splintered wood cuts as i
throw open their paddock doors
dapples and bays and grays
all the pretty little horses
bursting seething nostrils flaring
what fool
tried to put
wild horses
in a stable
what man
forgot where he threw the key
kicking they fly
towards the hills
looking for mountains
and swift rivers
bypassing the sheep they
run and i
dust and new grass in mouth
their lust filling my hands as i
reach out
they shy away, looking up, over, elsewhere
there and there go also there
thrilled delighted
but which one
can i ride?
No comments:
Post a Comment