He repeats it all again, a little slower
and louder each time, enunciating
as if she cannot hear. Certain she
must be confused. If he explained
to her in simpler terms, she would
surely acquiesce, change her answer
to be compliant to his reason; her
lips would soften, docile with relief.
Instead, she presents a calm mask,
a deliberate spine. Minutes creep on
as she refuses to repeat herself. Let
him have the last word if he needs it.
β¦
Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
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“Let him have the last word if he needs it.” Right on, Sister!
Some days this is patience. Thanks, Lynell
He will love you if you are smart enough . . . to hear him.
Thanks, Regina.
Sometimes so hard to do, canβt figure out what he is saying. Sigh.
Sometimes I think it’s a miracle when we do understand… Thanks, Jean.
I read this differently than the others. No matter how he asks, her answer remains the same. She hears him, that patient and determined mare, and she sets her ‘deliberate’ spine and waits for him to understand her response.
Kat, I love your take on this poem. Thank you… and gotta love mares.
β Heβ comes from a certain tribe . How to they manage to continue in the gene pool?
Good question. Thanks, Kim
I have thought about this poem throughout the day, loving it but also mildly confused as ! Re-reading this evening, I have more clarity. Not sure what that says about my impending senility.
This morning I read the poem as he ( a gelding, looking like the horse photo) ) was talking to her ( his human) and hoping she (the human) will catch on to what he (the gelding) is telling her, and maybe will soften. I maybe thought that because Bear and I had a similar conversation yesterday. Not my best effort with him.
But now I see it’s a man talking to a mare, and it says so much about how NOT to have a conversation. But the mare is generous enough to let the clueless human have the last word. .. or perhaps it could also be woman letting her man have the last word.
Anyhow, I love it, Anna, but honestly it can be read from several perspectives !!!! Which makes it all the better. Just call me crazy…
I was torn about a photo for this poem and in hindsight, this might be misleading. I chose a photo of a horse looking like I look when I’m being mansplained to. But in reading these comments, you are so right, it does work from many perspectives.Just chuckling, even when I don’t write about horses, I write about horses. Love what you said Sarah, cool that the poem followed you around today. Thank you.