the horse

the horse, clueless
about his
soon unwilled departure
from this good
earth.
wagged his
broom stiff tail
and munched
carefully on a final
carrot.
an apple waited too
when he finished that.
his sloped back
was a burden to both
ends of him.
he surrendered
to the flies, and to
the ignorant
stable boy
who never got his name
right.
maybe he knew, sensed
some sort of end,
perhaps. but like most
anyone of long
years, he dreamed of
blue skies.
of love.
of running across
lush green fields,
he dreamed of the past.