Visiting Horses Before I was caught thrashing in the internet, I used to walk out to the barn at night to visit horses. There were several over the years, they were all the same. I would cross the dark yard, over grass or snow, Over the shadows of trees thrown by the moon. I would swing up over the bar gate like I was in the rodeo, The pigeons cooing like the poor boiling water. I took a good minute for my eyes to adjust. At first it was just the silhouettes of derelict equipment, The feed wagon with its chute wired up like a boxer's jaw, The dinosauric auger with its brontosaurus neck, All long ago broken down for parts across the Midwest Like the debris field of a space disaster. Finally I could see the woodcut of her body in the dark. She was trying to understand what I was doing there. So rare for her to be visited at such a late hour. Hard for her to get even her huge head around that. It always ended in her coming walking towards me To see what it was I wanted.
Excellent take on this exquisite piece of writing. I agree totally. You almost get the smell of the barn, of the horse, drifting up your nose. Beautiful!
Austin…Love this so much….. images are just right there for the reader to walk with you on your night visit.…hope all is well with you two out West!🌿
Excellent take on this exquisite piece of writing. I agree totally. You almost get the smell of the barn, of the horse, drifting up your nose. Beautiful!