Not Now, Horse

Swallowed flies escalate horseward

Not now, horse; be saddled or be swept away on a lungful of the cold dawn air, heavy, neighing cloud!

Little turnips grow. Leave them alone

Do not dig; their enormity is all a myth

Let them sleep in earth, like we all must do, when all your dirty dramas are as still as you

Sink your withering words without sound in the shallows

Let me throw your voice to the nesting sparrows

Be silent now – it’s almost dark enough to hear all those songs you forgot to love

Finish what you’ve begun, leaving things badly drawn

Light arrives from the sun, a billion babies born

As, thighbones high, we wade out and out and out and out

Until we become nothing…

…And are everything, things we’ve never seen

We breathe out at last, we breathe out at last