Between these Sleeping Trees
A girl rides a horse at dusk
Tugging hooves through racing heartbeats
She sits erect with a tight slant
She is not wild, though you imagine she is

Tugging hooves through racing heartbeats
Gallop in closeup; exposé, follow through,
She is not wild, though you imagine she is
Stalled between these sleeping trees

Gallop in closeup; exposé, follow through,
She is new suddenly in her honorable infancy
Stalled between these sleeping trees
In a marble wood where the mist thickens

She is new suddenly in her honorable infancy
Words stuck inside bones, like boons inside bramble
In a marble wood where the mist thickens
And the moon becomes a draconian eggshell

Words stuck inside bones, like boons inside bramble
She sits erect with a tight slant
And the moon becomes a draconian eggshell
A girl rides a horse at dusk.