Skip to main content

The Horse Moon


Not everybody enjoys poetry.  Some prefer to write their own, others read it.  For me, it's always just been about catharsis.  Below is one of mine.  It's not new, but was written at a time when I was remolding my life.  Nothing was not in flux.  I was "playing the field," mainly because I was surrounded by many people a lot younger than me, and not in a serious-relationship frame of mind.


The Horse Moon
  © Nikki (Nicola) Holmes, 1994, 2018
(originally penned October 1994)


Breath burning nose, knee howling,
'The rain has stopped! The rain has stopped!'

Soft click of bicycle in a coast
whisks ride by. Snapshots
  of you in the light of a quarter moon
strobe through my brain;
  pan across my eyes.

Bridle slung over arm,
  riding boots in toe clips;
you--blue-edged silhouette
  moon over your shoulder.

Sting of salt,
 sweat in barb-wire scratches,
  little grains of troublesome words.

Gentle rocking of walk, staccato trot,
  well-paced, firm-handed canter.

Life time of training for last
 evening's performance now
 replayed with joy that was
 wont yet absent        under last night's moon.

Crop not spared, pace accelerated,
 soon night and morning smear
 together; steed and I race to,
 reach, that equine asymptote.



PS!  Dont forget to share comments, feedback, even criticism.  I relish it!  You can leave it here or, if you're a Facebook friend, you can comment there, too.  There is even a subscribe button on this blog.


Comments

Post a Comment

Recent Popular Posts

The Fringe Guys

What would we women do without the guys on the fringes? The men who love us unconditionally even knowing that we will probably never go out with them. The men who see us for who we really are while we are busy chasing the bad boys; the players; the guys who are going to take advantage and then forget about us. But then those men on the fringes... they're the real ones. They aren't poster boys for Chippendales or the firefighter calendar, but they are there for us and we lean on them. The Fringe guys. They prop us up when we are falling apart. They remember our birthdays and the day that our pet passed away. They remember our favorite color and they want to brighten our day almost every day. They love us and when we make excuses for why we won't date them they believe our excuses. They listen to our conscience-easing excuses, and they hope that they can believe the maybe of it. We say maybe and they hear yes when we mean no. And all of that keeps it going round and round, ov...
2 comments
Read more

Player: A Love Letter, of Sorts

It hurts him that you say he's a player. To him, that is an insult. I understand why you might think he is. It took me a while to understand him.  Very few people get to see the private side of him. Even people who have known him for years get the public guy; the version of himself that he has built over decades. He is a charismatic man.  He has appeal for almost everybody, and his quiet, funny, occasionally off-color banter is definitely appealing to women. And he has many women around him. They're his groupies; friends on Facebook who've never met him but adore him, nonetheless. It's so apparent that I often tease him about it, in fact. His groupies. That's exactly what they are. And I can understand that you see all this, and you think that he would leverage it to his benefit. You've known him for some years, I think. Longer than I have, I know.  But I know who he is behind closed doors. I know of the things that even he doesn't admit are his insecurities...
Post a Comment
Read more

Asshole in the woodpile

This is not a friendly, emotional, or reflective post. Nope.  This is directed at the ASSHOLE stalking my personal blog while all the while thinking that I am writing for YOU.  Imagine the ego. Since you can no longer leave bile-spewing comments on my blog itself, you are now trying to stalk me from WhatsApp, texting me condescending opinions about my life, which you have no other information about. Get over your infatuation with me, and what I am doing, and how I am enjoying my life.  Go find your own life and happiness, and don't concern yourself with me.  I am happy. And, just to be clear, I have enjoyed a number of men since my marriage ended.  I have fallen in love, and I have never looked back.  It has not been hard to meet men who want me.  I can happily say I am still friends with a number of the men I've recently dated.  They are ALL younger than me, some by quite a bit. Only a NARCISSIST would be concerning themselves with my personal li...
Post a Comment
Read more

Mortal Fear

2003, with Okie; the hay barn at my ranch Not everybody knows this about me. Because--well it's kind of funny really, it seems like nearly everybody who knows me right now didn't know me 10 years ago.  But, 15 years ago I was a strong, mid '40s, kick ass, athlete. I was working out four days a week. I had six horses who I regularly rode. I managed everything about those horses; I arranged 40 tons of hay to be delivered one to two times per year for those horses and had a hay barn built for those 40 tons that I personally tarped, and protected from the weather, and, as I needed them dropped those 140 lb bales of hay off a stack 14 feet tall to feed my horses. Almost on a daily basis. Nowadays people don't see me doing that. The people who know me think--I think--that I am a little bit older; a little bit overweight. But you all didn't know me :-) Y'all don't know who I was and I'm still that person :-) And here's the thing. I mean a lot of people have...
2 comments
Read more