Rethabile Masilo

The Stallion
                   

Little waves crawl to our feet to die;

one by one through summer

with wet tongues they come.

A tern lifts its head, drags a gulp

down its throat. A stallion sniffs

the earth above an old salt mine

where the field is bald, like the head

of an old spirit trapped in the mine

and thumping the ceiling to be freed.

Like sea water, the horse will come

near the salt-lick to die, or go

for a last jaunt, then thunder back

down the hill past stables where

no one lives anymore, though

his ancestors roamed this shore.

One day, when the mist was still,

his parents appeared to him

in a white cloud, and bequeathed

to him and the mare slumped

on the grass at his side, and the child

they were going to have, the right

to roam and gallop these hills.

                                              Sarah Hasty Williams

Rethabile Masilo was born in Lesotho and currently resides in Paris, France. His first contributions to Canopic Jar appeared in 1986 while he was attending Maryville College in the mountains of East Tennessee. He has been the co-editor and prime mover of the Jar since 2004 when he was enlisted to help bring the magazine into the 21st century. His book of poems, Things that Are Silent, will be published by the Pindrop Press in 2012.