This Is Not a Horse

^{—after “Horse” (1980) by Deborah Butterfield}

It looks as if it has only now  
risen from the stall bed, straw

clinging to its body the color of mud, 
but we know from the artist 

it is made of rag paper pulp  
cracking, fibers like small hairs,

ribbons of bamboo leaves, steel  
and chicken wire to look like 

an animal bending down to drink   
perhaps from a bucket of water.

A hoof implies the presence of  
the whole horse. A saddle implies 

a horse and a rider. Where are you  
taking me? In the barn, they crane 

their necks to see who’s coming.  
I feel the weight, the gesture in 

my own body. You become  
the horse: Bonfire. White Crane

A horse is a prayer. 
The meaning changes every day.