Allan Peterson

A Horse Remembers

A horse remembers none of its ancestors
heels ascending to splint bomes
and knows not its namesake in the sea
It cannot see itself through history
as I cannot me for my unknowns
sunsets pulled down by their long gold wires
my highest calling from way below hearing
It knows back a few days to an apple
and stands satisfied under a moon under a live oak
that stands amid histories
cypress cut to stumps magnolias by lightning
The horse sees the man who would ride her
coming down from the heretofore
with his wherewithal