He found it in the pasture,
pulse fast, pawing hay.
He stood over the still
moving body, watching it turn
in the folds of wet soil,
and after hours of contemplation,
decided to give it sleep. He waited
one more day before burying it.
*
What do you do when a horse dies?
You hollow out the land,
you try to make enough space,
and when you think you have enough,
keep digging.
He said this because
he himself had to enter the hole
with the horse and shovel,
shift the legs, reposition the head.
—first published in Radar Poetry, Issue 30, 2021
