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The Web Poetry Corner - Thomas Michael McDade - The Mount

The Mount

by

Thomas Michael McDade

A wild west drifter,
a jockey in a post parade,
I'm riding Jess, a quarterhorse
with a diamond-splashed face,
on an Outer Banks shore.
A child's shell art
reminds me of my bulging discs,
but my back's not the worry--
rather the carousel ride
if I dig in my heels
and find no gallop.
Jess shows me who's boss
then, avoiding the surf
like it's glue, he runs
for all he figures
I'm worth.
I'm Shane, Hondo,
Shoemaker, Arcaro.
Hooves smash the kid's
long spine of shells,
but mine is thrilled numb.
Limping later
along the beach,
I'm an old bent scout,
tracking Jess and me.
Breakers covered our trail
and we got away clean.
It took fifty years
to get that mount.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at PALERMO 20/09/2005 - LA FELICITA’ : ANDARE NEL TRAFFICO IN AUTOMIBILE.
by: Presti Salvatore
from: Palermo, Italy

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