Tuesday, March 25, 2014


They ripple like velvet on the ocean's skin,
their eyes sorrows no one knows are questions;
they look right through you. "What is my nobility
to me?" A flick of the tail undoes the paddock.
The little fellow lifts his butt sky high,
and Lightning, Hot Mama, Candyland and Grace
charge across the mud.
I know nothing. Particles and chance
work like a hand to bring your prize to me.


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