Their hard hooves a sonnet to the coal night
Iambic pentameter on the ground,
From the roots of the pine trees held upright
To the sharp beats that reverberate down.
Under the course mane made of wind and brown,
Saltine sweat-drops form alliteration
And sink behind blurred hooves, an ancient sound;
Imprints in the road a soft narration.
Velveteen nostrils form a quotation,
They steam a design in the frigid air;
Black boots on flanks a silent dictation,
“Together a sonnet,” the hooves declare.
And from the couplet comes the horse’s verse
Ba dum Ba dum on the road they traverse.