Published September 15th, 2024
by Brent Cantwell
bags hang from forgotten backs on the way to school
and we drift all we like in wet-ankle paddocks
clown-clumps of coloured flowers in a funny-blow wind –
most days are grazed grey on the knee-cap bump
down to the first stile –
only a yellow-flower thistle divides the adjacent field
and my face went white when a black horse
bit me, nipping friendly –
not that I knew or accepted
the wet suddenly-dry of work-leathered lips –
piston breath on a not-ready neck –
hip strength flogged to a bullish pelt.
Groomed in the rain contained to fit.
A sentence dun from buck to bit.
About the Poet
Brent Cantwell resides in Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia.
Read the poet's biography on Brent Cantwell's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #10, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Australia Poetry Magazine:
Mud
by Saratha Brandes De Roos
Australia Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
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