The White Horse... Poem by RIC BASTASA

on that early dawn
they arrived. I will not tell you
exactly how many were they.
they brought the wild horse again
this time it is white and coy
they did not speak to me
my attention was focused on the
beautiful horse
i did not show that i liked it
i did not talk too
then they brought the horse inside
the house
and then the windows and doors
were closed
and then the white horse started to
dance
and i liked it more

it was then that i realized
what are they really
and why are they here bringing me
a beautiful white horse

will they take my antique chairs
made of rosewood?
will i bargain my house
for a horse?

just for a horse
and they whose names i do not really know
shall laugh
after they had finally taken the whole of what i have

just for a white horse whose talent is just
to dance?