Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Sea, Horse

Rein-up, stand.
Warm clouds of equine steamy breath,
All a tremble in the muscle,
And the sun, break low at setting.
Golden like the sand.
Each hoof, touch, imprint, toss,
Small packets, scattered in their passage,
O'er the one small bird in a million years,
Brown, forever, strand.

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