The horses gallop, dance. prance
in and out of imagination.
Around the room, the sketched walls
ride up and down,
down and up
on the mind’s carousel.
Silence an unexplored fairground —
a sky field
where colors run gladly together.
Trains wear ordinary lines,
travel to two-dimensional sounds
but the horses weave mystery harmonies,
speak merry motion language
that rises and falls.
falls and rises
like the sea rocking the sun to sleep.
About the Creator
Lori Lamothe
Poet, Writer, Mom. Owner of two rescue huskies. Former baker who writes on books, true crime, culture and fiction.
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