Red barn pony-
graze the straw
growing on
lone star soil.
Life is a gallop
and a kick against
your neighbors' deadwood.
Your master has
a swayback metal roof
to climb you on,
and a hundert year old
ground to plow for
nuthin'. In between
your velvet ears
all the world is
contained in a pack
of coyote yips.

Sara Fielder © June 2018