Riding over Persia
on titanium hooves, my gallop
tearing up the DMZ,
I stomp down a refinery, trail a scat
of incinerated cars, running
from my shadow
as I strike at the sun. One brown eye,
one blue. I’m star-marked…
my barding, bulletproof.
I’m the noise of a wedding
on fire. Bombed-out tenements
quake as I pass. In my blinders
and heavy headstall, I smell
petroleum burning and hear
a high-winding cry.
from Charms Against LightningFind it in the library
Copyright © 2012 James Arthur
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.