I took some time off over the holidays, but here I am, back with your Monday vitamin. I read a poem I liked in the NY Times Sunday Magazine, and found another by this poet:
The horse had been beaten and flies
crawled excited on the beat marks.
He held still in the sunblazed pasture.
For some minutes I stood at the wire fence.
He was aware of me but he did not turn—
except his eye, slightly. He listened
through the many ears of the grasses.
A jay made a hole in the air with its cry.
Everywhere, invisible as heat, the gods
married each other and went to war.
The excitement of it vibrated in the flies.
As if we both were standing still
inside some greater, more violent motion.