Stories with a horse, ghosts, depression, alcohol, houses


Cats in and out each with their individual meow

grow tiresome running under the groan of the garage door.

something inside them is frantic like me-

a stuck emotion or unexpressed desire

to be out in the cold rain pellets

asleep and unconscious


Their cool damp fur stuck with thistles


the horses  beg for thirds and look wildly into the wet woods.

I am not so different

One thought on “Grip

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