Further avoidance of writing fiction has helped me to write this poem (working on a theme in the novel so I feel entirely justified….)
Note Pinned to the Saddle of a Wandering Mare
Partner, I admit
I left you to the graft
wrangling, branding, counting heads:
I forgot to shut the gate.
Things on the ranch haven’t changed.
So empty the echo
deafened you. So dark you gave up
on matches. So quiet at night
I roped you to my ear.
I liked your prairie
eyes, the way we rode like friends
along the trail: my singing, your red kerchief,
the lariat round your neck. I’m sorry
for the handcuffs and the lock
across your door.
I was so hungry
I ate you alive.