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Aequitas

A Poem by L. P. Hawkins







Endless path forever bound

To mind in vine and worth;

Forward naught to travel when

The two white mares trod earth.



Pass their gaze then look away,

Lest hear your stray thoughts churn.

Shy the eye--no sunlight in

Against the temples' burn.



Allow their drink in open stream

To slake your lonesome thirst.

Taste the berries on the branch

When ripened skin has burst.



Lay your head on tall-grass'd lawn

And count the leaves astray.

Resume your travels only when

The mares have gone their way...and so I have.

� 2007 L. P. Hawkins