Just like Jesus, I was born in a stable.
My horse mother birthed me onto a bale of hay, my
Father held her hooves like the good husband
He was. His fingers ran through her mane
As he shushed her. She likes it when he shushes her.
I was born to run, my horse mom said, not just because
Of her horseness, but because Springsteen
Said so. We’d race in the backyard, she tried to
Let me win, but I would always trail behind.
Her hooves sound like high heels on our tiled bathroom floors,
I always wonder how a high-heeled mother can teach
Her child how to leap.
She used to put on a saddle and let me ride on her back
Even though it made her feel more horse than mother.
She was smooth and chestnut, an equine of her time.
feedback please! need to fix it up before i submit. text me or comment ur feedback good or bad i promise i will not be offended i love feedback. i hope you liked my poem about if my mom was a horse.
realyl love this. how can we mae it more catholic? The horse is apparently the strength of God. i love the "equine of her time" line but i don't think it's strong enough to end the poem on unless you want an ending that feels a bit abrupt almost mournful.
ReplyDeletegood good awesome concept and poem. i think it maybe needs to be separated out a bit? it all kind of blends together for me. what would happen if you removed all the enjambment and did it again? you could put in a springsteen lyric or sort of pervert one? maybe just more about what it's like to have a horse mother, e.g. how it felt to lag behind. also, i agree with robin about the ending.
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