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Her Horses, a poem by Sam Butcher

Published: 3/13/2014
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Editor's Note:  My dad, Sam Butcher, spent most of his life educating and inspiring students of chemistry at Bowdoin College. In his retirement years, he's excelled at a completely new pursuit: Poetry.
Please enjoy this one, about a horsewoman's quiet, perhaps painful contemplation. M Butcher


Her Horses

She gazes out the window, not
really looking at anything.

They stand as both sides of a coin,
head to rump.  A tail swishes, and
the coarse hair caresses her face.
As they walk to the water trough
her hips record the rhythm,
the restrained grace.

As in a dream a memory stirs
of a ride to that divide above La Hood:
the lupines, islands of aspen glow,
crossing to the other side.

Perhaps she’ll keep a bit of tack,
to have its smell and feel,
pass on to little Jack.

It’ll take the right sort,
but she thinks she knows
and has a deal:
thirty-five hundred for either one,
a thousand for the pair.

        -- Sam Butcher


Read another poem by Sam Butcher

Read more horse-related poetry

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3/14/2014 Steve
Sam is able to appreciate the meaning of the smallest gestures, the deeper meaning of life in his observations of everyday occurences. I am fortunate enough to have read a number of his poems, which always promote reflection/contemplation.
3/18/2014 Sally
That was really beautiful.
5/7/2014 Nancy
Really captures a strong memory of when I had to sell my own horse for kids college fund. Still reeling.....

   
"An owner of a Tennessee Walking Horse once said that his horse reminded him of a lightning rod, for, as he rode, all the sorrows of his heart flowed down through the splendid muscles of his horse and were grounded in the earth." - Marguerite Henry