Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Final Exams

I see the shadeless silhouette
Of a man who rode out from the sun.
Galloping near, his face shows clear
I shudder to think what he has done.
The hammered horse all wet with sweat
The mane a mat of blood
The valley echoes pounding thunder
Bolting through the mud.
Thrusting arms beneath dark cloak
Pulling reigns as if to choke
Stops man to ask, and horse decide
Should we leave him be alive?

And I write to survive.

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