Lost and wandering through the woods
a malchik found a horse
made silhouettes by gleaming rocks
it’s hair in rusted silver knots
and frozen in its course.
Atop the hill between the trees
frozen mid-gallop through the leaves
frozen in stone and cold as bone
the fossil no move made
It’s rusted eyes a dull surprise
Ivy wrapped it’s leg and neck—
Neighing though it made no sound,
The horse it seemed the world pulled down,
The flaming stallion flaked as flint
Planted on the time-worn plinth.
Sol gave way to Luna, night
the child approached the horse in quiet
extending his hand to touch
what was her hair was dust the mare
it flaked away with wind like sand
grey ashes on the young man’s hand.
The nochi blue had turned to night
and the boy chiseled with a knife
until he saw the first again
and as he brushed the stone away
it crawled up his legs in frays
and would not let him go.
the horse was free, the boy was stone
and still the flaming steed rides on
brandon the writer | author & staff writer for sir swag 