Paul Archer - photo Paul Archer - poet, translator




I was never scared
he'd leave me so
I'll never forget
the day his horse,
its long reins trailing
and its saddle shining,
by its own sweet will
came sauntering in.

I rode at a gallop
to where he lay
with only the shadow
of a scrub hunched
over in prayer.
I dried his blood
on the hem of my skirt,
knowing all the while
he could never repay
this last act of kindness.

Then I moved away,
using again the name
from when I came
into this world,
finding a blue-eyed boy
who gave me what
I needed to forget,
but I'm darned if I can
recall his name.

So now you find me
on this old rocker
out on the porch.
I've been fending
for myself for a long
time now and when
all's said, life's
been good to me,
yes sir. Get yourself
another tinny. Stay
with me a while.

© Paul Archer - All Rights Reserved