I want to be worthy of living. I want to be. I keep.
A band. Of horses. Up late at night. Writing poems. Like
these. They are watching me right now. Saying we are resting.
Our eyes. They need very little quality. Rapid-eye. Movement.
Have faster pulse. & dreams. My horses. Sleep standing. & altering.
Hind legs. On our bed. Dappled with hay & softened. Metal. Burning.
In my hands. A forge. Every night a leg on my knee. Waits for me. To hammer
in. The first nail. I bury. My head. Hold my breath. Against soft mane. I rest. My eyes.
Again. When did it begin. When did love pitch me. Soft. & smoldering. Toward a stake.
When I only. Want to protect. Every one of them. So they can sleep. More. Soundly. I tell
myself. This is not impossible. Like standing watch at night. For eternity. So they’ll dream. Far,
far. More my. Horses my horses will. Be different. Rarely. Will they. Wake they will. Keep. Believing.