Pale Horse (For My Children) by Matthew Borczon

on mornings
when the
world is
a bleached
skeleton on
a pale horse
and hope
is the sound
of the wind
through its
rib cage

when I’m
feeling
like less
than dust
on the moon
or grease
in the fire

I remind
myself that
I was
only ever
really here
at all

because
I’ve loved
you.

matthew-borczon

Matthew Borczon is a poet from Erie Pa, he has three Books available, A Clock of Human Bones From Yellow Chair Review Press, Battle Lines From Epic rites press and Ghost Train from Weasel Press. He works as a nurse and a navy sailor in Erei.

 

 

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