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The Centaur* |
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The summer that I was ten-- |
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stopped and raised my knees, |
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Can it be there was only one |
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pawed at the ground and quivered. |
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summer that I was ten? It must |
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My teeth bared as we wheeled |
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have been a long one then-- |
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and swished through the dust again. |
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each day I'd go out to choose |
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I was the horse and the rider, |
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a fresh horse from my stable |
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and the leather I slapped to his rump |
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which was a willow grove |
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spanked my own behind. |
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down by the old canal. |
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Doubled, my two hoofs beat |
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I'd go on my two bare feet. |
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a gallop along the bank, |
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But when, with my brother's jack-knife, |
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the wind twanged in my mane, |
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I had cut me a long limber horse |
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my mouth squared to the bit. |
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with a good thick knob for a head, |
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And yet I sat on my steed |
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and peeled him slick and clean |
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quiet, negligent riding, |
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except a few leaves for the tail, |
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my toes standing the stirrups, |
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and cinched my brother's belt |
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my thighs hugging his ribs. |
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around his head for a rein, |
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At a walk we drew up to the porch. |
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I'd straddle and canter him fast |
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I tethered him to a paling. |
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up the grass bank to the path, |
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Dismounting, I smoothed my skirt |
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trot along in the lovely dust |
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and entered the dusky hall. |
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that talcumed over his hoofs, |
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My feet on the clean linoleum |
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hiding my toes, and turning |
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left ghostly toes in the hall. |
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his feet to swift half-moons. |
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Where have you been? said my mother. |
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The willow knob with the strap |
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Been riding, I said from the sink, |
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jouncing between my thighs. |
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and filled me a glass of water. |
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was the pommel and yet the poll |
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What's that in your pocket? she said. |
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of my nickering pony's head. |
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Just my knife. It weighted my pocket |
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My head and my neck were mine, |
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and stretched my dress awry. |
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yet they were shaped like a horse. |
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Go tie back your hair, said my mother, |
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My hair flopped to the side |
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and Why is your mouth all green? |
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like the mane of a horse in the wind. |
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Rob Roy, he pulled some clover |
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as we crossed the field, I told her. |
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My forelock swung in my eyes, |
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my neck arched and I snorted. |
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--May Swenson |
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I shied and skittered and reared. |
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* A creature in
Greek mythology that had the body of a horse and the head and torso of a man.
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