The Annunciation Of The Egg Poem by Sheena Blackhall
The Annunciation Of The Egg
Horses smell sweeter than lilacs.
Their buttocks are firm as a chaise long
Their eyes are lustrous as lilies
They canter like a brook across a ford.
Even now a horse is walking over my fragile memory
As if it was treading eggshells in a green field
The field I sucked like soda one summer’s day
Drinking it in with my eyes.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
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4/25/2024 12:00:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
