SPLINTERED SUNLIGHT

across a bed of hay
does a white horse lay
his massive head rests
in the lap of his mistress
grunts out his agony and distress
her quiet, methodic tears drop to
his face in splintered sunlight

no one notices
shadows descend into wicked night
long-drenched hours of snorts
and painful breath ~ so close to death
this fatal light shall know
its last remaining breath
fades out like cotton-musical sorrow
once dawn emerges victor
from this mortal fight

"you can go," she whispers, softly
in the stall's cold morning, broken
knowing he could not pass
without her blessing, spoken
these two who had bonded
deeply, Soul-caressing
his illness came too swift
stealing years of unridden dreams
and all they would be missing ~ now adrift
in splintered sunlight

when alas his last exhale hung
on thick, silent air, she was there
yet a part of her followed
where God takes good horses
to his infinite care
and that's how they found
her, wedged between semi-darkness
and dawn's evanescent, blank stare,

holding his head as though still
he could rise on his own power and might
her tears forever frozen in time
a mannequin form alive without will
suspended where Heaven restores mend
to the aching and sight to newly blind ~

                                in splintered sunlight.