Bronco

The clacking of the geese, hollowed by the warm South breeze,
Reaches wildly to my ears from across the wind-stretched trees;
A lone, frothing stallion, eyes afire with dawns’ freedom approaching dusk
-
Hooves pounding the sun-scorched stubble mingled with springs upstart
sprouts -
Brother to the wind that carves down the mountains’ back and races
alongside,
step for step,
Over hills, bending the dry, crackling grass, rippling water and beyond
while the horse suddenly halts -

Head hemmed in by the jagged, snow-steeped peaks and the horizon
unreached,
Stares after the wind, which tousles its’ wild, white hair, stands
Like an Indian Pinto, heart pounding, nose pointing forlornly at a
barbed-wire fence

Pink

As the sun sets on the mountaintop...
The last remnants of snow,
Glazed by upreaching fingers of warmth,
Glow pink - pinker than the mountains to the East-
less so than those to the West:
the valley below is choked in shadow,
that the sun may concentrate his attention upon painting
this godforsaken rock pink...
and then sink.

^

Biography

Sean van der Lee is a Canadian writers, who has had work previously published in Electric Acorn 7.