Mouths of Dead Horses

In the dead of winter

We buried horses under the snow

I passed you with

Dirt under my fingernails

And cold blood on my coat –

I thought you saw

Sometimes it gave me warmth

Clutching those stiff manes

It made me feel important

To touch the dead

I don’t know why we buried them

I saw the empty eyes

And grinning teeth

And said nothing

I am here

Because some workmen

Drawing boats

Onto the shore

Found a dead horse

In the mouth of the stream