These Great Horses of History






There is a naked weeping girl

In my heart, like a snowflake

Blessed a thousand raining times


Every time I hear her bronze name

Whose body was like

A thousand fingers


Of autumn and kissing history

These loves that come and go

Like the sweet music of

Soft birds of May, or


The moist valley in a pair of eyes

Our lives cannot maintain

Their whiteness, the uncovered flesh


Turns to a kind of stone

Where thinking the name

Of love, becomes the only song

That matters, still uncovering


The wilderness, never too late

The naked weeping girl

Will not rest, but dress in


Gold cloth a billion times

In another heart, over and young

Never truly growing old…



14 thoughts on “These Great Horses of History

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