
Poetry in Horses
The Night Horses are stalled between sleep and dreaming. In the steading they lower their massive heads to the earth’s nod. In darkness white-faced Clydesdales lip at nothing. Below a halo of bats they rest their load of feather and bone and horn. They hear, don’t hear, the scrape of shoes, as a gelding shunts his weight to tilt the other haunch. Their slow brains … Continue reading Poetry in Horses