searching for her horse both fields empty
How bereft her look bereft
and burdened by question – how hold emptiness?
How endure when mind disrupts instinctual rest
and remorse makes of night a wake?
How wait . . . for a thought – a twist of thought
too subtle to stir chimes into sound
Out of nothing would it burst forth
sinew flank muscle and mane
leap flaring its wings in visible air