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.
Copyright © 2025 by Blas Falconer. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 2, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
“I’ve always been fascinated by the ars poetica. With a nod to [René] Magritte, ‘This Is Not a Horse’ reflects on Butterfield’s sculpture and her own words—from interviews, statements—to consider how artists render the world. Here, I am interested in how poetry can point to its own artifice while still revealing something genuine of ourselves within it. In other words, I wanted the poem to honor a moment of awe we feel in life (walking through the stables with my son, who loves horses) and in art (walking through a museum or gallery, writing or reading a poem) while both acknowledging and obscuring the difference.”
—Blas Falconer
Blas Falconer
