how dark was your horse?
January 19, 2012tell me why I sometimes think of you
with blond hair
that in a photo your mum
has combed down flat
and grown up its fluffy
what gone are you
who comes back and stands behind me
telling me of your pride and speaking
with so much love in so few words
you who envied me
you who could sing to a crowd
and me
who couldn’t hum without embarrassment?
how dark was your horse?
how rough were the seas?
why didn’t I ask that of you? where was I?
oh to see you smile
in the sunlight
and out of memory shadow
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