POEMS FOR HORSES

It is cold in the house

It is warm in the sun

and I eat dinner once a day

I feel so sad and it is okay that the animal runs faster than I've ever thought to run

Happiness is like a magic toolbox, or a regular toolbox: filled with the same, special thing, which comes in many different sizes

I miss you so much that I've been thinking, lately, that I might have to go away for a while.

Just for a bit, to sort some things out.

Sometimes there are so many mountains. I cannot begin to understand