Narrow Flame - Poem by Linda Gregerson
Dark still. Twelve degrees below freezing.
the elegant, injured right front
leg of the gelding on the cross-ties. Kneeling
The undersong of waters as she bathes
the leg in yet more cold. [tongue is broken]
[god to me]
Her hair the color of winter wheat.
Comments about Narrow Flame by Linda Gregerson
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.