Penned
Rings around an equine leg,
captured gait and proud of heritage,
slice my heart to freedom's pitch
to lay the stones to pave
Fields should sway in wildflower metronomes
to the running hooves of a thousand feet
Sun on manes and nostril steam
breaking the morning dew in clumps
and yet I watch as canters stop painfully short
and white wood fences become brick walls
to never be toppled, except in flight
in midnight eyes and fire.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment