Posted by: Ron DuBour | February 12, 2019

Being Granddad~by Stephen Miles



Being Granddad

Rocking the horse
hides depths to which stooping’s reached
push forcing creaks to infest serenity heaven
escape is an inevitability

believing beyond acceptance
aged by play and time
an unrealistic equine replication
jaunting out its stationary trot

tunnelling over walls, I walk away
on crisp grass, through steel wrought gates
emerging to cornerless pebbles
spherical material pressed to sand

inching the beach the sea’s mouth foams
wave upon wave breaking into roar
shrieking pain as it recedes
dragging slate over stone

confusion is the chaos organised by nature
for which blue prints are never shared
showings are a constant free production
through open audience auditions and casting

deliberating my horse rocking in solitude?
A competitor with a salt sprayed face
eyes streaming with wind teased tears
gusting at the stretched horizon’s view

peek a boo says the little hand bed in mine
neck stretched up
eyes filled with hope and trust
along with life the horse rocks another generation.


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