The horses keep tossing their heads and stamp the hollow flooring,
wheel knocks into wheel
as the ferry glides out into a damp wind.

The coal-truck horses, three abreast, ponderously,
sides and rumps shaking.

With blown manes and tales
the horses fling themselves along lifting their riders.

The thin horses step beside the lawns in the park,
the small hoofs newly oiled,
heads high, their nostrils taking the air.

 

 

Return to Rhythms II

 

 

Material from
POEMS 1918-1975: THE COMPLETE POEMS OF CHARLES REZNIKOFF Copyright 1977
by Marie Syrkin Reznikoff and reprinted with the permission of Black Sparrow Press.