Horses in my hand

Beginning with a dream
Of pencil shavings and eraser dust

Falling with a memory
In the midst of feathers and things both dull and soft

Landing on a cushion
Of all things left undone

Reclining back with open mouth
To drink in a potion from the sun

Rising in uncertainty
Tripping on the narrow way

Brushing off the dust of roads
Heading for the sand

Sleeping softly in the sunlight
Horse and rider in my hand