the barn sighs, as ever, grain rattles
in the bin when the creaky old top
tips open. a flake of hay, some
designer horse vitamins, a splash
of apple cider vinegar, the slam
of a gate and the sough of the wind
and there around the corner, sliding
in mud comes the little mare; I could
have sworn she was black and glossy
but that was September. winter now
in the bin when the creaky old top
tips open. a flake of hay, some
designer horse vitamins, a splash
of apple cider vinegar, the slam
of a gate and the sough of the wind
and there around the corner, sliding
in mud comes the little mare; I could
have sworn she was black and glossy
but that was September. winter now
news from a small town
23, November 2012
