Heavy horses

Heavy horses huddled
Resolute against the cold
Stronger in the breaking
And I’m just getting old

Witching hours of morning
Death and dark are a similar chill
The sound of heavy horses
Drag the plow past my window sill

Heavy horses forward
Muscle sinew and bone
Taut before the breaking
Furrow fields overgrown

Lamenting hours of twilight
The coming end of days
Heavy horses flecked with sweat
Never turned out to graze

Heavy horses bridled
Forever yoked and bound
Like me they’ll turn the barren earth
Till we’re put in the ground
TL BOEHM

- between Grant and Newaygo MI there is a farm that has been there as far back as I can remember. In the adjacent fields I often spotted a team of draft horses pulling stumps or grazing. Sturdy, yet beautiful creatures they were, in palomino tones. Two summers ago, I noticed the fences gone and no evidence of the heavy horses. I miss them.