The Shadow Horses Will Gallop Away
All the homely and usual tasks, like washing up after dinner, these are things we want to do with a companion.
We could ski across the frozen lake, and lie on our backs in the snow as the moon is rising.
I do not wish to be lonesome and alone, but I go out by myself into this varied blue evening.
Would we miss the horses as they gallop away?
The icy stream approves of the bridge.
To have a bad memory is a tender and lucky thing.
Old hurts fade, a bruise will yellow away from the dark.
In the madhouse it’s always winter, winter light always and tarnished silver afternoons.
Remember a night they were twined in yours: my fingers little monks cloistered in your hands?
Home becomes voices in a cabin in the woods.
Insecurities continued, but we left them on the otherwise deserted top floor.
Now, as much as ever, it’s important to ask yourself, “what is forgiveness?”
Our exhibition also suggested the importance of starlings.
I lost the sense of what yellow means, but found it again in a flower.