Ink

A collection of 74 poems. All of these, except for Judder, were written between April 2, 2022 and May 14, 2023.

 

WILD HORSES

 

She sees horses in the streets,

tearing down the tarmac,

silvery manes of flowing water

twisting in the wind's hands.

 

Pale white streaks of ghosts

leaving translucent trails of light,

black eyes glistening, nostrils flared,

silent in their insistency.

 

They say the fields are full of bodies,

buried during the war,

but all she can see are the horses,

hooves pounding the ground.

 

Beautiful wild beasts racing

without a care in the world,

unreflected in windows.

How they run.

 

(August 18, 2022)