by Cyn Bagley

Created on: October 22, 2009

I did not see the horse
although my sister, flushed,
claimed the horse had stood
next to the window, nose to glass,
lipping for a carrot.

She claimed. (I didn't believe.
For young boys miles around
would come to watch her
through the curtains.)

I did not see the horse
race to the sun, glowing as it rose.
No, I did not see the horse.

I saw instead a white shirt
and dark jeans slip out the window.

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