James Dooney Poet I do not know?

The Night and the Mare

The Night and the Mare.  

There is a horse,
and he is running.
A wooden carriage, 
strains his back. 
Bumping and grinding,
it trails the horse, 
both dashing along the sun drenched path. 
Dark passengers his cargo, 
they fly into the face of the sun.  
They know their time is coming.  

Dancing upon the drench of the sun,
the carriage party gathers steam 
that knows no bounds.
The sun, spellbound, 
is drawn to it 
in acquiesce.  
Resist it does not,
as it plays its part 
in what appears to be something 
genuinely meant to be.  

The final point is reached,
and the carriage stalls at the door. 
The sun, and all its light, 
bow down as the carriage grinds to a halt.
Steadied, its passengers exit,
stretch and dust themselves off.
The moon, black clouds, and the dark 
introduce themselves as night, 
and with the mare that brought them, 
they enter the stage as one.

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