← v4n1, Spring 2005
Poetry · Volume 4, Number 1

Outside the Horse

In saying tomato field one

inherits a green ironwork of stems,

shifting splotches of sun

where light bounds from skin—

far removed from saying, say,

landmine: crescent steel, a bed

of red, spent leaves, feather-

width pin upright as a statue—

saying statue one troubles

over a park, pin: medal,

but saying horse a meadow

comes forth, bees quickening

and the thought of nostrils

oscillating eager circles,

hooves still among leaf-spines—

saying horse again, one intuits

a rider, architect of motion,

saying motion the brain is seen,

pulsing along its limits.