- Vol. 03
- Chapter 11
Image by Bruce Connew
Blue Eyes
Mounted as if a horse, fleshand bone in passage. The rider
sees an open mouth,
an eye and face, ears perked;
the bedpost, the wall – a horse ridden.
Open eyes look at my open eyes;
as they ride: blue touching black.
Ground chips, soil flies, the rider
rides. A palm below the neck, bends
to lick now and then. Then eyes
shut. Then remain shut.
Movement neighs with the rider’s weight;
A muzzle of sweat leaks; the two
pant and run to finish.
Do horses close eyes to remember eyes
the way I remember those blue eyes?