A Horse’s Blues

Tyree Daye

In the gullet of the field the grass is a color that reminds us of dying or is it we the dying color? Must be.

I call my home beautiful even as the children pass by & feel pity on me. The moon is a blind bird we all must make peace with. Sometimes I am brave, I let go of all that wants to kill me.

I go go on now, all that wants to kill me & raise my face to the sky, I make many suns on the ground. Our legs are made of instinct.
I know the whole of war. I step lighter with blood in the soil. I watch for death like a snake. I don’t believe the one who rides me knows that we will someday both be covered in the grass I eat. They forget their bodies & marvel at my own.

Tyree Daye is a poet from Youngsville, North Carolina, and a Teaching Assistant Professor at UNC-Chapel Hill. He is the author of two poetry collections, River Hymns, the 2017 APR/Honickman First Book Prize winner, and Cardinal. Daye most recently was awarded a 2019 Whiting Writers Award.