the eye of the horse
looks at me through slots of electric wire.
the eye of the horse has not forgotten
long meadows of sprinting exhaustion.
this eye of her has never missed a memory
of moon rays drowning a field of damp summer grass
the eye of the horse holds
it all
a great deep brown cistern of truth
the eyes of love
behind a fence
that holds her bones
but never her heart
1 comment:
sorry,i haven't quite figured out this site yet and I keep getting lost. I'm listening, catching up...Nathalie
Post a Comment