- Vol. 03
- Chapter 11
Image by Bruce Connew
Turning Point
The day I met the horses –heads hanging, shifting
in our plain suburban driveway.
They shimmered slightly, here
one moment, gone
the next. But they were there
still, when I looked back, when
I look back now, the sheen
of their coats against the pebbledash,
the pure incongruence.