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I rode my horse over the hill,
there was a sound like
invisible language alighting in trees,
like a thousand bees
with a thousand microphones,
I knew I had a job to do,
I was needed in an important way
though I myself was unimportant
like a snowman falling
into an icy crevasse,
a cemetery full of
mostly forgotten, grassy graves,
that was all I knew but
just then the sun looked beautiful
like a beautiful woman
stepping out of a limousine
into a field of scorpions,
my horse was frightened
and in the deepening dusk
I whispered wild promises to us both.
