ELEGY FOR PEGASUS

(On the Death of Barbaro)

 

 

 

Swift knew about horses,
that they are
more rational than we,
that they stand
on their strong, slender legs
like a good argument,
that they are
beautiful in flight,
beautiful at rest,
beautiful of face and form,
that we grieve for them
as for our best selves,
that we love them
not as pets but as gods,
that when we race them
we are racing ourselves,
that none of our betting
and borrowing
can sully
their nobility.

 

. . .

 

They prance,
they fly
and we cannot.

 

Oh, winged horse
of poetry,
lift me
to the perfection
of Barbaro
with his fragile legs,
let me fly
through the clouds
on his back—
racing to that
green meadow
where horses and humans
speak like equals.