how the men, one of them
my uncle, tried to force
the horse into the trailer
how the gelded bay
balked and hopped, reared
gleaming and wild-eyed
how the three of them
refused to be beaten
by a dumb animal
and my uncle found a 2×4,
pounded the bay’s rump
step by step into the metal cave
how my aunt and cousins
and I shouted Stop, stop!
and the horse, beautiful,
rose up again–hooves flailing,
mane like black fire–
to save its one life
how the trailer tin gouged
its eyes that filled with blood
so thick, the horse was blinded
and the men put down their arms.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 22, Issue 3.
Diana Mitchell lives near Charlotte, NC. She retired from a corporate job a few years ago and now spends more time writing poetry and essays and occasionally playing around with a DSLR camera. Her work has appeared in Role Reboot, North Carolina Literary Review, and other regional publications. You can also find some of her writing (as “Dede”) at OurBlueBoat.org.
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