Horses in Winter
The fields lie dew-frosted in the early morn
Against a background of misty gray,
Shadowed forms take shape.
A soft whinny breaks the winter silence
The horses, like the dragons of myth,
Blow clouds of breath from flaring nostrils.
The only sounds, the dull echo of hooves on frozen ground,
And the sharp crack of brittle grasses crushed beneath great weight.
They move gently, as with reverence for the frozen land
The falling snow patterns their coats with white
Dappled gray with winter's weight,
Even their spirits grow tame.
The barking of a dog, sharp and distant,
Draws their heads to the sky, listening.
And then, they move as one, heeding the call
The beauty of life in a deadened world.
I watch them leave, one by one
A moment of peace in a war-filled world.
Dumbly I stand solitary,
Dreaming of a change of season