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I dreamed of my father when he was old
We went to see some horses in a field
they were sorrels, as red almost as blood
the light gold on their shoulders and haunches.
Though they came to us, all a-tremble 
with curiosity and snorty with caution,
they had never known bridle or harness.
My father walked among them, admiring,
for he was a knower of horses, and these were fine.

He leaned on a cane and dragged his feet 
along the ground in hurried little steps
so that I called to him to take care, take care, 
as the horses stamped and frolicked around him.
But while I warned, he seized the mane 
of the nearest one. 'It'll be all right.'
he said, and then from his broken stance
he leapt astride, and sat lithe and straight 
and strong in the sun's unshadowed excellence

Come Forth, a Poem by Wendell Berry

Maverick Mavuso

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