A new poem by University of Canterbury lecturer Nicholas Wright.
The Word Event
On such a day and at a time like this
the poets gathered and sat on stage
and as they appended their diaried thoughts
the horse appeared, baroque and absolute.
Across the stage the naked horse drew
a carriage metalled with pipes; the poets quit,
stretched withering hands for cart rhythm
and pipe became the stage with song.
The horse, declining, drew beyond
the memorial lawns, the festival
sculptures, past the celebrated gardens
and entered the river; its vehicle
absolved, it became a decoupled thing.
The water rose to float the pipes, to reed
their stops; in the darkening soon the white horse sank
still drawing, ears proud, nostrils still pulling
and pushing, an eye swimming out of view.
On nothing did the horse depend.
The Friday Poem is edited by Chris Tse. Submissions are currently closed and will open again later this year.
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