Horses

Setting out on my bicycle alone,

I came upon the horses

drenched in bright sunshine,

yard after yard of blue-black ironed silk,

drawn before stopped traffic.

With white stars on their foreheads

and white bracelets on their legs,

each blood horse wore nothing

but a fine noseband

and a shroud of steam.

I felt lazy and vicious watching them,

with my large joints and big head,

stricken by thoughts of my brothers.

If only the barbarous horsemen

could lead us down the path, unestranged.

It smashed in me like water galloped through.

Flinching there on my haunches,

with wide nostrils,

nipping the air as if it were green grass,

how I yearned for my neck to be brushed!