Under Shadow, Horse and Shade
“…to surrender my shadow…”—James Wright
then you
rescued light from lumber, sand and shadow as the pasture turned graveward,
hate-handles flapping into a miserable middle age spread,
an old, cranky barn shutter barking in the wind, the colt’s voice
lead on run from ghosts and a watery clock, effluvial
death approached us, the weight of a blue depth we dared
as distance challenged with spoon and spanner, all manner of utensil
kitchen grown limbs soft, heart hard and lost in overhead words
how we missed the algebra theorems chewed upon at noon
had we understood enough the effort racing reckless
toward something in the meadow’s shade, the ineluctable ocean night
whistled us home, we promised the bell on the white wooden pole
as we lay in the field, brown grass between our lips, fox fur over knees
in dreams the stars swarm, we swam the sifting barnacle things, waves
dived through some wreckage, the sea pulled against the weedy
slick breath of a July night under shadow above the tides
sailors lost under the cold pillow of airlessness and seaweed serpents
we strangled in dreams as the trawler fell under, the brass
unbuckled and you awoke next to me, the clubbing of the horse’s slate knuckles
thunder on the field, drops of rains blossoming our crowns, suddenly
we were children again, not wise men, neither cowboys nor queens
all the light-burst windows in the valley, the people inside gallop between songs
scribble on each another, finger the abacus of stories upon ink-silent or outspoken lips
teeth verb ticking, verb ticking, verb ticking, is it too much
children brave the uncertainty of stars and the world unseen
the sound of stones clocking down the mountain unknown, as we break our bodies apart.
