Saturday, July 16, 2011

Pocahontas

A horse spoke to me on the St. Clair West streetcar
A miniature horse on a grey winter day
I reached down to pat it as it lay sleeping
Coat matted a little, flattened from play
Its peeling hooves kicking, albino-rose bath toes,
Pocahontas, it wheezes, Pocahontas, don’t go.

Why Pocahontas? Are you a lost
And a foreshortened ghost horse
Forever careening down colonial trails?
Each time doomed to miss her
Each trace growing older
Don’t leave me, my princess –
Comes your warning
Too late.
    
Or is Pocahontas a missed after-
School special?
My plainting little pony
Your inhaler’s misplaced.

Image: SprinklesInTime. Posted to dVerse Poets.
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10 comments:

  1. FireblossomNovember 8, 2011 at 4:01 PM

    This happens to me all the time.

    I love this.

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  2. Brian MillerNovember 8, 2011 at 4:06 PM

    ha. nice last line...i think princesses seperated from any such a valuable companion may be a very sad thing...smiles.

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  3. Pat HattNovember 8, 2011 at 5:47 PM

    Seperated a princess should never be, might need to check out flutter valley, I think that was it..haha

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  4. TashtooNovember 8, 2011 at 7:54 PM

    This was awesome...but you had me with the image! had a huge collection of little ponies back when I was a princess :)

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  5. Shashidhar SharmaNovember 9, 2011 at 1:17 AM

    The last line was perfect... I enjoyed it... and the image that you painted with your words.. were so much more in touch with the image that you had put up for the post...

    Shashi
    ॐ नमः शिवाय
    Om Namah Shivaya
    http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/11/whispers-tears-in-rain.html

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  6. Jenne' R. Andrews November 9, 2011 at 1:36 AM

    Terrific, once more, Kathy-- quixotic and intriguing and lyrical-- I love all of it but you had me with first stanza:

    A horse spoke to me on the St. Clair West streetcar
    A miniature horse on a grey winter day
    I reached down to pat it as it lay sleeping
    Coat matted a little, flattened from play
    Its peeling hooves kicking, albino-rose bath toes,
    Pocahontas, it wheezes, Pocahontas, don’t go.


    These anomalous encounters we all have from time to time with things that seem out of place and yet not, are so hard to convey but you do it beautifully! xxxj

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  7. tinkwelbornNovember 9, 2011 at 7:24 AM

    the turn at the end is exciting.
    such descriptiveness leading up to this; such expressible passion in the words. lovely.
    good work.

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  8. ayalaNovember 9, 2011 at 8:53 AM

    The last line is perfect...lovely!

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  9. AnonymousNovember 9, 2011 at 7:16 PM

    This just remeinded me of Tinks, my little granddaughter. Thankfully, what she leaves behind stays here. Although her dozy grandad managed to lose her waterwings!
    Abeautiful little piece that made me smile and think nice thoughts.

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  10. joannaNovember 10, 2011 at 12:34 PM

    love this. such sad beauty.

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