Wild Bay
The wild bay galloped through my body.
Chiarra, you stood still,
watched oyster clusters on the black mud.
I thought the wild bay galloped
through your body also.
Since you disappeared, I now know.
When you stood by mangroves on the shore,
The wild bay did not gallop through you.
Inside you were ancestor's footsteps
and their ancient close order drill.
Duane Locke
Posted over on Poetropical
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