By She crouches slightly to see the horses –
a grey and a bay – through the wire fence.
They are eating windfalls of sweet chestnuts.
She watches them fully open the cupules
with their teeth then tongues to eat the nuts.
They notice her, feel safe to approach.
She is not much bigger than either of
their heads. Each half a ton, they walk with the grace
and circumspection of fifty million years.
They bend their heads towards her. Fearlessly,
she offers them grass. Gently, they take it.
baycircumspectioncupulesfearlesslyfifty million yearsgentlygracegreyhorsessweet chestnutsteethtontongueswindfalls
John Chapman
February 28, 2012Only the photograph is missing to complete this scene but, perhaps it is unnecessary.
David Selzer
February 29, 2012I hope it is. I place a visual image with a poem for a number of reasons: 1. the poem is about the image; 2. the image is interesting in it’s own right; 3. the image is related to the theme of the poem. I don’t choose an image to illustrate the subject matter of the poem.
Pat Rogerson
March 11, 2012The words say it all…I can see her and the horse.
Tim Ellis
March 18, 2012This is my favourite of these poems David. It’s a poem of contrasts: the hugeness and long evolutionary ancestry of the animals against the youth and fragility of the child. But the way I read it, you’ve shown that mankind is the master of nature: the horses are fenced in, not her; they approach her humbly to be fed.
David Selzer
March 18, 2012Thank you, Tim. Yes, master – they feel safe to approach, so, yes, are ‘humble – but also and/or destroyer. The latter sometimes postponed? Please see PRIMATES – https://www.davidselzer.com/2011/08/primates/
Jane Bailey Bain
March 20, 2012I love the timelessness of this scene. The freshness of a world seen anew; the ancient pact between humans and horses. That wire fence would be small protection without this mutual bond. David, you have captured both a moment and a relationship beautifully.