where he would be found

she had an old horse.
sway back, bleary eyed and brown,
thin
in legs, it's tail constantly
at the flies
that filled the barn.
your eyes watered when
you entered.
the cats, the mice.
the wet hay, the steel tub
of tepid water.
she didn't ride him anymore,
but brought him carrots
and apples
which he nibbled at with
broken teeth.
she'd brush him, and wash
his coat.
she couldn't let him go.
couldn't say goodbye or take
him down.
he'd have to do it himself,
he'd have to wander
out into the farthest pasture
and fall
into a pool of sunlight,
where he used to run, where
he once was young,
a place she knew, where he
would be found.