Poems

‘The man put on a new winter coat and walked off like a thought.’

The man put on a new winter coat and walked off like a thought.
Wearing flip flops, I lagged behind.
Winter : six am :  a time for worn clothes.
Six am looked a lot like six am.
Under the tree was a man.
In the fog, within the blur of a man, was a man.
The blur of a tree was exactly like a tree.
On the right, the blur of a horse of inferior breed
Was like a horse of inferior breed.
When the horse was hungry
The fog grew for him like grass.
Many houses, trees, roads, etc: none of them a horse.
Only this one horse. I was not a horse.
Panting, my breath replicated a breed of fog.
If the man, standing still under the tree, was the owner
Then I ran for him, wearing shoes nailed on like horseshoes.

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