Sometimes when she stirs, he pauses
(forgets what he is doing)
her unsaddled back un-brushed
his spurs of impatience upsetting her
how the evening sky darkens
a soft blue bleeding into mystic orange,
flaring red into starlit black cloak.
She knows her Master isn’t well
the way his knees rattle
how he buckles with pain
cancelling evening rides
(no more wild white daisies
no romp in Queen Anne’s lace
just quiet staring at uneaten food)
his jockey sweat, a salt taste mingling
with sweet smell of hay
still yearning, breathing
his heart frail like thin filament
a single light bulb flickering,
the shadow of her stirrup
a haunting noose image
swaying from barn rafters.
Debbie Okun Hill is past president of The Ontario Poetry Society. Since 2003, more than 235 of her poems have been published in 105 publications or websites including Vallum, The Windsor Review, Existere, Descant and Other Voices in Canada as well as Mobius, The Binnacle and Still Point Arts Quarterly in the United States. Tarnished Trophies (Black Moss Press, 2014) is her first trade book.
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