The bridge is a black horse
leaping the river.
The city is a black horse
nostrils flared with heat.
The crowd is a black horse
hide quivering with electricity.
Listen, listen, the sirens
screams of a red horse!
The wind is a black horse
dancing on telephone wires.
The night is a black horse
drumroll of passing cars.
My heart is a black horse
galloping, galloping.
Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside
Sunday, August 04, 2013
Black Horse
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