Day 11 - Ode to My Love for Horses

Ode To My Love for Horses

when it began is hard to recall, father
was probably drunk
at the bar.

mother and I would leave the library
arms warped like aged shelves bearing
the weight of years spent

silent. sweet glue would flood her Honda
replacing the scent of her Sun Moon Stars
what was hers became mine     momentarily

but when my fingers cracked and laced
the spines it was mine      endlessly
and from under its opalescent bell curve

I barely smelled coffee left on the burner, barely
heard mother fuss over dinner dishes, barely
felt the absence of my father.

I was tucked in the blue-green hem
suspended by withers stronger 
than I could know. as one

we navigated this slow ache
cantering through the hills of childhood
chin bristling mane until

what was mine was no longer even mine
it was instead
everything I wanted it to be.


  1. Beautiful. I especially liked the gentle rhythm you created. Your use of the word 'barely' for instance.

  2. Oh, your poem reminded me of the Black Stallion books I was addicted to in the late 50s. And yes, I borrowed them one by one from the library. . .

  3. This is a beautiful piece -- I particularly like how you contrast tempo/time

    "the weight of years spent . . .
    what was hers became mine momentarily"

    "we navigated this slow ache
    cantering through the hills of childhood"


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day 1 - Directions

Day 13 - The Body Seen and Unseen