Rob Schackne #174 - Black Foal

Black Foal


Will black foal
lying in after-birth
ever be witness
to its own death

have formed himself
the nocturnal thoughts
we keep from ourselves
when each new sun rises

playing all this music
overlooking the dawn
lie to our own after-births
the other fiery seas

here I wash my hands
wonder why the future
shudders wherever life
cedes a second to the dusk

foal suddenly starts
he moves with his hope
stands up to a world
newly knows a body

I would wash my soul
if I could believe in
such a promising
after our beginning

put those strong legs
to use in the heart
stagger a moment
stand up and go