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The Horses At the Pond
by Ken HarnischThe horses bent to drink
Their long-maned necks
Graceful as the swans
And just as clean
In the summer’s light
I watched them disturb
The water, and not mind
The destruction they wrought
To sate their thirst, or the wavelets
Beating against the shore
It seems that such consternation
Had a purpose I could
Not glean, and yet
I envied the horses, who never
Stopped to ponder why
We think too much, I thought;
We see things and wonder
After their roots when at times
All we need to do is sip,
And sate; then quietly move on
03/05/2007 Posted on 03/05/2007
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch
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