If I were a horse
I don’t know where the water in the estuary comes from,
I saw a Canada Goose fall from the sky today and drown.
Another of its flock circled around to find it,
It was a pathetic and harrowing death, the survivor flew on.
I sat in The Passage House Inn and drank Whiskied water until I fell,
I watched Heavy Horses across the dyke, they never looked skyward,
The grass and hay they eat is all they need, no more.
The more I see you disappear the more I need.
I remember the sound the machine by your bed made,
It made the same sound after you decided to leave the room.
I wished then that someone would switch it off,
I pulled the plug and the consultant frowned like a spoilt GOD.
The Estuary is still tonight, there are children playing on the bank
I watch from a bench we once shared.
The Horses are taking the piss and not giving a fuck about anything,
If I were a Horse I wouldn’t give a fuck either.