Moving On

I drove home today
from your funeral past fields
of scattered horses
who, turning away,
grazed alone after the heat
of some argument
they had.

I felt that.

One eyed me briefly. The shine
of it signaled me
to stay on my side
of the fence. The argument
continued, it seemed.
Meanwhile, at our pond
the duck line scattered. The lead
duck dove under for
her lunch. The others
followed in their own sweet time.
I stumbled on the stairs.

‎August ‎15, ‎2013 10:13 AM