Edmonia leans on the glass pane,
watches the green-eyed boy
in a brown jacket check a horse’s harness.
Helen takes a seat in front, pulls up a quilt.
She stares straight ahead as if already watching
for half-hidden dips in the road.
Seth looks up at the window.
Do his eyes widen at the sight of Edmonia?
Is he trying to tell her this ride is a duty,
a favor to a friend? She trusts
eyes and hands more than mouths.
Seth snaps the reins. The horses bolt
past trees forced to grow straight as fences.
Snow flares and flashes from under the runners
like a swan’s spreading wings.