Poetry 2013 / Volume 44

Us, we knew — Peter Madsen

We are
the riders of horses stolen time

and again from a stable in motion we ride forward and onward
on weekends for hours in side side motion forward back jump
motion in time trop leap fly
to sunlight purple path blue trees these mark joy unbridled his horse has lost nothing that can’t be refound (unrefoundable objects not yet made)

in a scene empty
of horses and riders’ objects and time
streams purple
sun stolen
hours spent searching
for good light horses
and riders misplaced
under the bed
now they are lurking
and stomping and shouting neighing good night

steal them steal them back to us
for we

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