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.