They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

by: Iolanda Scripca

To tame a horse in freezing winter

One plays a childish "hide and seek"

Caress its mane with future spring

and kiss the hazel moist with love.

Distract its pain with sandy gallops

Along the turquoise dreams of freedom

And while you heal the reddish wound

Recount the legend of the horse with wings.

There won't be saddles only clouds

That sometimes shed rainbows of tears

As darkness falls on killing fields

My soul is neighing as echoes cry...