For ourselves on the fly. The tragedy unfolded
On golden days, with calla lilies and oxygen tanks,
Expecting, like for a baby to come to the world.
But, instead, one is leaving, gathering her things,
Without a voice now, with muddled mind,
Only the heart remains. Death moves in but needs
To find the breakpoint energy to take a soul
So that another can move in. There were white
Flowers at the ranch for the horse that they had
To put down, when, the usual miraculous,
A new foal! Charging at the very world itself,
In whirling, willful motion, a filly, Friesian
Black as midnight coal, with a glowing coat
And a mare who won't let her fall, or run free
On spindle legs only a step away
And we must take it easy, let the world revolve
Without our shared skull as tiktoc clock
Measuring the shortage of Purina
Heeding the vapor deposited by fear
That clings like tar (barnacles if you are nautical)
Or monsters if you've emerged from the subterranean,
For there are demons at every portal, treasure
In every moment, pearls of inestimable price
Beyond the reach of all but the intrepid
Who care enough to seek -- at an opening of cave
What draws one in? What compels one to explore?
It's something so familiar, you know there is an answer
At some further convolution, where faith and the forks
Are one, and you could be anyone, that is your decision,
Your one job. To remember, is all, that sweet bird
Hidden in the trees, and rabbits under cars.
A hawk appears to squawk, then disappears
With a message to share what you've remembered
And the rabbit munches the grain beard of grass,
Gentle with fear. Now we can only see what isn't there.
The filly I'll call Midnight was sprawled now in the hay
In the late sun Chinese restaurant, 4 days old, already
Tearing it up on the turnout, but Mama's Mt. Rushmore eyes
Fixed at all times on what doesn't even move.
