In memory of wind and speed
And a frenzied, forward gallop
My tail’s a billow, my mane’s pulled back—
My neck’s all muscle and strain

I’ve a rounded diamond of an eye
Wrenched from orange sparks
And on a day of sun on winter snow—
I would glint and flash.

Taken from house and barn
Laid flat under plate glass
I stay within the Folk Art section
A hidden display of black iron at rest

What kind of Smith would forge me
Then tether me to this cane?
Around and around in agony
Dark horse on a weather vane.