The Phantom Horse
A phantom horse came galloping
beneath a silver moon
across a field of recent war
where corpses’ bones lay strewn.
With thunder in his hoof beats,
again and then again,
he raced along a river which,
like blood, ran through that plain.
Though frightful he appeared to be
on land that reeked demise,
a sole intent gleamed strongly
in his sad and ghostly eyes.
Then finally, as dawn began
to paint the broad stretch red,
the unrelenting stallion stopped
and seemed to bow his head.
He briefly knelt, then stood upright
and bore away, with speed,
the spirit of the knight for whom
he’d been a trusty steed!
2014 post for Angela Tune's A Ghost Story Poetry Contest
Submitted Oct. 13, 2022
for Mark Toney's 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 17 Poetry Contest
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