Without Metaphor

By Summer Hardinge

tomorrow we will meet the horses/ after they have run the fields cantered around us /nudged /

this is not a war poem/

we use soft ropes/ drape shoulders and withers/ coax them in/ they will not halter for this/ is not

a war poem/

a drink some oats / a comb and brush-out/ the day will be warm/ they will blink in the sun/

watch/ a patch of clover swarmed with bees—they will not/ be stung this is not/ a war poem/

we rub in circles/ loosen roughness dust flies—not a war poem/ we’ll lean-in to each other/ flank

to flank/ but not in a war poem/

we will speak of harness/ rein/ stall shook and break/ but / not spoken as war poem/ we will

turn/ look

for hatch/ ladder/ the release the catch/ in this not-war poem/ and wrap/ arms /around necks/

as if it / could be otherwise /

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This story originally appeared in Stonecoast Review Issue 19. Support local booksellers and independent publishers by ordering a print copy of the magazine.

Photo by Patrick Hendry.