Dusk
A poem.
December 13, 2011
Dusk Right before darkness slips on
听the field, I walk the fence line,
听split apples in hand, clicking
听my tongue a familiar sound
听the horses recognize.
听 The heads move higher, deliberate
听steps thud earth close to the wire,
听their nostrils quiver over the scent
听of Empire apples, still ready to bolt
听at indiscretion, despite the offer.
听 The setting sun sends a stream of light,
听red as apple skins circling white flesh,
听dark seeds couched in tough shell casings
听snap between the horses'
听flat teeth,
听the long concave faces scoop the light.
听 鈥� Thomas Husson