Boots crossing the brown sugar field
dog pulling on the leash
and sun angling down like a lure on a hook
low in the sky, bobbing on the horizon.
under the surface
go toward it like fish
In the far field I see traces of brown and white
then flash flash flash
single file white tails
slip from the trees
like blown out flames.
Then I see the horse pastures
fenced in white.
Six white tailed prisoners
pace from side to side,
frantically searching for a way out.
I stand at the fence
watching their distant dark shapes
going from one side
to the other
I go home.
At 3 am I get up to go to the bathroom,
if angels led them out.
Image(s) from Wikimedia Commons