Volume 69, Number 1 · Fall 2019

My Sad Horse

When he bent his nose
to my cupped hand,
I reached to stroke his
beautiful head, right
between the eyes.

There, the hair grew
short and flat; the bone
lived just below it.
I felt I was touching
the lid of his mind.

He looked at me then.
He knew what I was
doing, that I didn’t
want to stop. Say we
both knew. There was
still the fence, the gate,
hay and barn, water
in the trough,

Maria Hummel’s poetry collection, House and Fire, won the 2013 APR/Honickman First Book Prize in Poetry. She is also the author of three novels, most recently Still Lives, which was published by Counterpoint Press in 2018.