Horse in Snow

First, the nail-bitten fencepost,
the muttering strands
of barbed wire, then
the chestnut gelding, alone
at the edge of a field,
a stubbled grey shore.
Around him the lanky pines
huddle in wind, swishing
their tails together. Between
the wet stones of his eyes,
his white star is a constellation
of hope, which for a horse,
is like grief.
Sentinel of his herd,
he is waiting, ears forward,
for the girl who brings him apples,
two plump hearts, strokes
his whiskers and mouth
like a lover, making him quiver,
an ocean of happiness.
All day he listens
past the conversations of wire
for the soft snorts
of her laughter. Snowflakes,
little stars, cluster
at his feet, on his back,
dust the tender tide
of his mane.

Copyright © 2009 Pamela Porter All rights reserved
from The Intelligence of Animals
The Backwaters Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission