Oh running horses of the sun
Among the chestnuts, there is one
Who once was human – now struck dumb
For speaking truth of things to come
Her fingernails join in a hoof
Her neck grows long and arched and strong
Her teeth grow big and by her ear
Her long mane falls and from her rear
A tail sprouts. her wrists grow hair
Her haunches heave, her brown eyes stare
Her withers shake her nostrils flare
And Ocyrrhoe is a mare
Her feet like iron, one by one
She stamps, impatient, on the ground
And then the mare begins to run
for she is now a thoroughbred
With foaming flanks and heaving breath
She passes in a flash of red –
Oh running horses of the sun
Ocyrhoe’s blessed indeed
not to know what lies ahead
And not to know what lies ahead
Anita Greg 18/10/2018
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