Briefly Recalling The Year Of The Horse Poem by Luke J. Holt

my cheeks crowded windows
where blood peeks through skin to see love closely
all the world a great blue den with low ceilings
the yellowest sun to ever sear tar and lovers and grass so alive it stains like green berries
dusks like low bronze horns
hope, canvass shoes and blessing and presents float by and burst like water balloons
lust a cheap lantern
held by a garish lunatic with no tact
watch him wobble and spill the soupy candle on her favorite dress
in the cherished year of Equine
where and when the tales were true
and from whence i cleared the fences of 3 corrals on a blue foal who dashes guided by smell to nightmares beyond