Where There Are Feathers

Eyes of horses, pools of secrets
three horses, synchronicity
they lean into one and another

a trinity, reaches the end of the furrow

plough line, wake of earth
turn, rattle of chains
slice and glide of share

and I am so happy I forget myself

sing a song of horses

heavy horses…

press and lift of hoof
fetlock and hock

the lone woman who speeds the plough
face impassive as a chess piece

rein and harness, brass stars


a feather spirals down the sky

corkscrews as she dreams

and the poet reaches the end of a line

December 1st, 2018, 10:15 am.

Published by Jonathan Chant


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