The Horses by Jennie Mejan

 

Photo by Shabnam Shademan


                                                   The Horses
                                                   The horses come to me when I butter bread 
                                                   and fold our clean old clothes.
                                                   They appear in step behind me 
                                                   as I pace our rooms with the cordless phone.

                                                   They breathe into the backs of my knees 
                                                   and nuzzle me throughout the day. 
                                                   I hope to share their sable coats with you 
                                                   so I tie them to the rungs of chairs and table legs.

                                                   The hours drag past and the horses stomp,
                                                   leaving bruises on the linoleum of the kitchen nook,
                                                   while we wait for your sounds in the yard.
                                                   When you come, I feed you and pet their shiny haunches,
                                                   quieting them with clucking noises and hums.

                                                   Finally, when you sit with your wine, 
                                                   I loosen the ropes, one by one at first, 
                                                   until the small and last shy few are free. 
                                                   I wonder if you see them. 

                                                   The parade consumes the living room, 
                                                   leaving impressions all over the rug and floor. 
                                                   You never mention their hooves 
                                                   or their colors when they prance 
                                                   around you on the couch.

                                                   – Jennie Mejan

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