Mists linger on this moonlit night,
kisses between the Earth and Sky.
The land takes on a different life,
and in it, seeking you, am I.
I move toward forms I think I see
- is that your shape? A fence, a vine -
when you emerge, and greeting me,
become real, as your touch meets mine.
These moments of our warm embrace
are known to you and I alone,
the dances we share in this place
in daylight, like the mists, are gone.
The prying eyes of daytime never see
the magic life this quiet pasture leads.
My Filly
My filly, if I could to you relate
the splendid wonders of the world I've seen,
so far beyond this muddy barnyard's gate,
an endless world of rolling fields of green.
If you and I could roam the Earth at will,
We would discover new things every day.
As partners, we would savor every thrill
And lay together in the fragrant hay.
But you are held here in this filthy pen,
Neglected, no love from them do you find.
And I live in a hateful world of men
To loves as ours, their hearts are cold and blind.
So as you are a horse and I a man,
I'll give you all the kindness that I can.
Thou sleeping turds, whom Autumn's shovel finds:
Awake! And roll into the garden beds.
Fine products of my lovers' warm behinds,
In half a year you'll feed the flower heads.
Through winter's cold in crystals you will wait,
for Spring's young sun to warm the soil again;
Your jealous siblings stay within the gate
to be no more than more mud in the pen.
But you shall know the sunlight and the rain,
the shovel's blade, the probing of the worm;
the very microbes from your help will gain,
and through you will the Summer see her term.
Thus I submit you to the tiller's blade;
a year from now, we'll know what we have made.
This pleasant day in walking I would pass,
enjoying the pleasure of your company.
I wish to tread upon the tender grass;
I would not ask your hooves to carry me.
By chance we stand on legs of equal length,
and so we share the same relaxing pace.
Such travel is the reason for our strength;
with time enough we could go anyplace.
We might enjoy a shaded running stream,
or tour the dappled sunlight of the glen.
Perhaps we'll watch the sunset's final gleam
before returning to our home again.
