Photo & Poem: I Cannot Know

  We became strangers. I thought I knew her so well; that place just back from her ears where her mane flips to the other side. Her slow half-closed eye resting in speckled shade, head low to the flank of a gelding. Her outline in moonlight blue at the night feed, the horse from my … Read more

Photo & Poem: When the Sunset is Through With Me

  The sunset plays me. In the heat of the day, colors are flattened by glare and searchlight bluntness, work taken on, tasks finished. But when the sunset looks at me sideways, flirting through the clouds, changing expression in each instant, I come stumbling out on the porch, fumbling with my glasses, my camera, knowing … Read more

Photo & Poem: Sentient

  Long in the tooth, people say. Gray hairs dusting his temple, this gelding plays the part of good uncle, passers-by tickle his nose to show their familiarity, unaware of of the memory that kind of touch brings this stoic gelding who remembers too far back, too sad a time. Past his prime, people say. … Read more

Photo & Poem: Faraway Friends

  I would show you the adolescent Canada geese on the pond. Better behaved than we ever would have been, they stay close, like Catholic school girls in prim uniforms between their parents in church. We would give them names like Cecelia and Mary Margaret and Bridget, us standing by the donkey, scratching his ears … Read more

Photo & Poem: Dwindling Light

  His swayed back so warm in the late afternoon but he doesn’t lie down. His shoulders bear his weight without rest. When predators come, he can’t be helpless to run, not that his buckled knees could carry him far. He ambles in for his dinner alfalfa, belly soft, and while the other horses tuck … Read more

Photo & Poem: Dry Thunder

  The draft horses galloped out of the barn and down the fence line, stood on their hind legs, pawing the air with teeth bared, then threw their heads down, stretched low to nip at each other’s hooves as the thunder whispered to a boom. Flashing violence, the clouds blew the sky a greenish purple, … Read more

Photo & Poem: Hand

  One draws attention, standing by a tolerant gelding and playing the horse whisperer, tickling withers, teasing his whiskery muzzle. Passive violence in the guise of a scratch, demanding an involuntary response ripped with conflict, pulsing with agitation. One demands sweaty perfection, the mare never exactly good enough, but rewarded at last, one ringing slap, … Read more

Photo & Poem: Birds and Horses

  Fences mended with twine until there’s more time. Scrubbed water tanks filled fresh, drank down to half by noon. Shoveling muck into the cart, I would be done by now, but for the meadowlark aerials just above. But for the Canada geese inspecting the tall weeds at the edge of the pond. But for … Read more