It's Still Life

Free

tried once.
fell off.

slowly.

slid like animation.
like marmalade
off hot toast.

dented myself
a bit on August-dry clay.

soot-black eye
and a sprained wrist.

the horse and I,
we walked back to the stables.

I fed him windfall apples
bruised with bee stings.

talked about how
i’d remember this day
for the rest of my life.

i love to watch horses run.

free.

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Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk and see where you end up.

Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.