Friday, August 29, 2014


by Kat Comer

Slowly the dumb beast treads
heavy footed toward home.
His long black shag hangs
matted and dusty with age.
A funeral horse
submitting blindly
to the burden he carries
Bent figure shaped
like gnarled wood
rides lightly on the tired beast
and stares at me across the void
as if to say: "see me."