from a distance we could hear the galloping
of hooves on asphalt. we turned our heads
struggling to see through the trees. then
after we got onto the freeway
they overtook us. violent joy
reddened their faces. steam rising
from their strong bodies running.
in their purple beadwork.
their proud straight tail. their vast inexplicable
eyes. for a brief moment I managed
a glimpse of their thighs shining moving.
holding deep inside them
the sun. for the third time midsummer
unfolded red roses at our house.
sometimes I can’t stand the thought of what
waits for me.
let it come let the unexpected
find me. a wind.
no one will be able to say with words
where it passes.
A good title entices a reader to read the poem