horses in the ocean
on the hot island
as soon as they enter
the cool water
they groan heavily
alarmingly
yearning to be seahorses perhaps
and weightless
in the delicious shivering cold
bellowing their need
the sounds torn from
their deepest land-locked souls.
They made their way deeper
hoping we will float away, no doubt,
shedding riders as I wish
I could shed
my winter self and begin again,
lightened.
Laura’s work is always so descriptive, imaginative, and beautiful and I’ve loved watching her progress through the years.
Laura’s Mom