Ragged Circles
The white mare
runs in ragged circles,
her steps chased
by an ancient melody.
She lifts her heavy head
and dreams of a wild herd
pounding tribal rhythms
across the plains.
She perks her ears
at the imagined sound
of a staccato counterpoint
beating through the song.
The mare slows down as
the calliope grinds to a halt.
Another sugar-coated child
is lifted onto her back.
No comments:
Post a Comment