Horse head

You ran as fast as you could
like other horses but you tripped
over, followed by others, and the humans
riding you all. Like dominoes. They broke
their ribs, collarbones and nose,
you name it. One had a brain bleed.
And you, like fish caught and laid
on the ground, were ‘injured’
and ‘euthanised’. We don’t know
if you broke a leg or your hip.
There’s no autopsy, and my friend
metaphorically cried over
the loss of you. Now I can only
imagine you as this head, like a foot
en pointe. You look like drinking
from a pond, when there’s no pond
but a space made of neon colours.
You live on to remind us that fate
is ahead of us all. It’s still winning.