Tom Simard

Poetry, Music, and Prose

Archive for the category “Book 8”

Book 8

I was struck by the horses in Book 8.

“And the Seasons touched the beautiful manes of the horses,
unyoked and tethered them at their celestial stalls,
and leaned the chariot against the bright wall of the courtyard.”

“A thousand watch fires were burning upon the plain,
and around each, fifty men sat in the glow of the firelight,
and the horses stood alongside the chariots, munching
white barley and oats, and waited for dawn to arise.”

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