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
Topic(s) of this poem: eyes,green,horse,memory,summer
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8/24/2026 6:44:01 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
