A horse skeleton calls out to me Giddy up.
I was trespassing in sensible shoes.
Each step I took to exit the unfenced pasture
sprouted another horse skeleton
until there was a herd—heads down
chewing ghost grasses.
My last step stubbed my toe on the base
of a meteor stone that fell here eons ago.
From under that stone a Hipparion skeleton
leaped out of the earth.
I was knocked to the ground
and pierced my side on a flint spearhead.
Some early Native American drew blood
thousands of years after death
in sweet revenge of what
was perpetrated by my ancestors.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney