Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Hoss

They gathered,
Along an edge,
Of a vast paddock,
Necks straining against,
Wood and wire,
To nibble tops,
From lush grass,
Grass no different,
From where they stood,
Not greener,
But maybe,
It was a taste,
Of freedom.

7 comments:

Steve Isham said...

Maybe animals long for transcendence. '...the whole creation has been groaning together...' (Romans 8:22)

Russell CJ Duffy said...

or maye just a hope?

Russell CJ Duffy said...

maybe even

Anonymous said...

I always feel like I am entering a place where I am privleged to be--yet not supposed to be--when I read one of your poems...

Inconsequential said...

I always wondered why horses actually stay behind fences, after all, they can jump pretty high...
and they do seem to always be eating stuff on the outside of their fenced off areas.
Oh well, guess i'll never know the workings of the horse mind, unless reincarnation really happens, but then i wouldn't remember why i was curious...

Inconsequential said...

Nymph - ?

err, anyone is welcome, critism is very welcome, and surely going places you're not meant to go to is far more fun than going places you should?

As for the privileged bit...well, i really don't get that at all...
Come and go as you please :)

Pod said...

love this one inc. horses fascinate me. i feel sure i was once one