"The Horse Fair" / Rosa Bonheur / French / 1852, 1853.

earlier, while gawking into

a troubling atmosphere,

over a mug of "french roast"

I had no thoughts of horses, letting alone

taking the time and effort to actually write about them.

but later,

after reading the "suite" from W. C. Williams' flowering

"January Morning" and then Googling horse pictures,

everything seemed within reach.

as a kid, I had a fundamental fear of horses.

it wasn’t a paralyzing fear, or a haunting remnant

of a vivid horse dream, but simply due to the size of their heads;

big, hard, and long, with black-nodule eyes, mouths full of gnarling

yellow teeth, with long, pink-thick tongues the size of waterslides.

kids from Wyoming would've

laughed at me if they had the chance,

but that didn't happen because

I didn't go to Wyoming.

but in time I grew from my fear of horses

to more immediate fears of other kinds

running rampant in today’s critical world

of new and improved gun-slingers.

recently, during a frantic game

of hide and seek with the kids, I refused to hide 

below the head of a horse, and because of its size

and ultimate consequence, I would rather be caught dead

than hide behind the ass of a horse.

remembering: LaCava's "free horse rides" at his stable

on North Quarry Street. 1952?