A poem taken from the GP publication :An Inventory of Fragile Knowledge
by Mary Kennan Herbert
The education of poetsI was almost thrown by a horse.
My grandmother saw it happen.
She almost got kicked
when she tried to rescue me.She dodged angry hooves,
falling - backward,
into the flower bed. I saw her
falling, into the peonies.Her white hair, plump flesh,
surrounded by fat white flowers,
and now I see her stumble, then
tumbling into the flower bed.I watch her fall.
The horse whirls, spins with me
clinging nervously, a horse
whirling in memory, like flung petals.
Copyright © 1997 by Mary Kennan Herbert. All rights reserved.
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