Author Archives: John

A separate breed, these horses standing,
saddled and dressed in glinting tapestries
for centuries, bred for the parade of kings

who rule the world collectively, who feed
humanity, efficiently like cattle in pens –
who make war scientifically as lasting

diversions for young battle cries
amid the smoke and thunder.
And we admire them – this horseflesh.

Imagine the feel of such power
and grace to glance upon ground
you know intimately.  No forty acres

to farm with an army mule, but space
between silhouettes of ranges, the far
purple horizons that draw all envy

from souls a horseback, grinning dawn
and dusk at an ever-changing sky.
A special breed not everyone can ride.

                                              -for Rusty

Like steel-jawed traps slightly buried
and camouflaged with leaves and grass –
like land mines half-way ‘round the world,

we step around them, waiting
for the old horse or dog on the edge
of suffering, or the crippled cow,

before pulling the necessary trigger.
We cannot pretend we do not see
gophers in the garden, the endless trail

of ants, the rats’ nest – we deal death
as we wait for our own, always hoping
our compassion might outweigh the facts.

Killing is not for old men who have lost
their focus, who cannot pull the blinders up
to eclipse themselves.  A man can endure

only so many squeezes, so many crosshairs
before he begins to step around insects
and spiders, avoiding the snakes in the road.