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Gate of the Broken Horse

Updated on July 4, 2015

The Gate of the Broken Horse

Survive so many floods,

and is confusion all you have?

restless rain spindle leaf,

does any gruff wind blow you down?

do you still trudge umber foot path

where bridges were made to places best shunned...

and rootless souls fall through knotted boards?

home might be one field over, or just never was.

pale, tender fireweed finds no sun,

dig, plant, dig, plant all you like

Your horse is broken.

Your plow is broken.

soil can't take salt to it's skin

the poison sows degenerations wide and long

as far as all the days you have left...

cry silently for you faithful friend...

but... leave that poor mare in a knacker's yard...

leave plow to rust in your Father's garden,

leave the salted fields.

Go on.


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    • Hyphenbird profile image

      Brenda Barnes 19 months ago from America-Broken But Still Beautiful

      Hello dear Lily. I am missing you, loving you and praying for you. How is Alaska treating you these days?

    • lilyfly profile image

      Lillian K. Staats 2 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska

      The adoration is mutual beloved! I am SO proud of you! Clark is coming! Can you believe it????? Much love! lily

    • Hyphenbird profile image

      Brenda Barnes 2 years ago from America-Broken But Still Beautiful

      Home just never was nor is even now. Perhaps if I could make my way to Alaska, I would find it? Like you I would never leave a loved one in danger so alas, my escape is a ways off yet. I adore this one dear friend.

    • lilyfly profile image

      Lillian K. Staats 2 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska

      It wouldn't let me go on;had to clock in again. I'm already too pissed about the holes in this to soak up your generosity... But I did read it, and was moved... talk later, (certainly not here.)

    • lilyfly profile image

      Lillian K. Staats 2 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska

      Well, now- the only one who posted a comment. It seems we are in the storm alone together some days Clark.

    • moonfroth profile image

      Clark Cook 2 years ago from Rural BC (Canada) & N of Puerto Vallarta (Mexico)

      Before I make a specific remark or two about this remarkable poem, let me try an answer to your question just above: if we can absorb our Selves in each moment, then there is no abiding Change, only Spots of Time which we are totally 'fit for', because we're as One. And that isn't Zen trickery......that's a new way of looking at The Real. And hard to do every moment of every day.

      But the way we LIVE our values is rather like carrying a Spot of Time with us, a Moveable Feast of integrity, if you will. If a poem is to project that unique, evocative power that rocks the reader and DEMANDS attention, the imagery and metaphors that frame that Demand must be in perfect sync with the poem's unstated Intent. That fusion happens here. The reader is pulled into this world and participates--and unless that reader is made of granite--by participating, has to ask if they are really prepared to g0 to the wall for their own values and principles. This is a fine poem Lily, fine because understated and assured. Fine because imagery opens and opens the reader. Whether they like it or not.

    • lilyfly profile image

      Lillian K. Staats 2 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska

      I would never leave a horse of mine to the knackers, or put my dog down, to get an apt. in California, (everyone thinks I'm crazy for that one...) Mmm, some things are hard to leave behind... some dreams die a hard death, and how do we find what we're fit for when everything has changed?