WEBVTT

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This next poem is
entitled "Onlooker."

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"A whole hour sitting
in my car I've

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watched the horses
through the barbed wire.

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They stand so still
and I watching

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them feed on their quiet.

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In pairs confessional, their
bodies minding the flies,

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they listen with their tails
each silent face so close

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it almost hurts to watch.

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The outside, the sun
raises the settling welts

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on the frame of the new tractor.

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Moist oats golden
in the dark furrows.

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Why must we put
everything into words?

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Only the living can tell.

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Listen, the wind is coming off
the mountains, their blue peaks

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half hidden by snow, I shiver
and roll up my window."

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