White Horses

For my mother...

We stare at the rocks and shoreline

As if time itself has fled,

For the sea once lapped at our laughter

When he would go on, ahead;

But the seasons change in the counting

And the laughter fades from the eye,

He went ahead at the parting

Caught up in his own bleak tide.

 

Your hair turned white in the mourning

Your songs all died in your throat,

Your eyes turned wild, and haunting

As I looked for some antidote;

But age crept up and caught you

In a season of sad neglect,

We sit at the shore in silence

And think of some deep regret.

 

For the waves roll in like thunder

And the foam now caps the crest

And your wild, white hair blows ever

And your eyes are dim, distressed;

I hold your hand in silence

In hopes that you’ll speak of him,

But you take a breath, and mutter

“White horses are coming in!”

 

And over the heads of breakers

Where the foam breaks loose at the rip

I fancy the manes of horses

Are tossed at the breaker’s tip;

And shoulders pound at the rollers

While hooves flash white in the tide

And your dim grey eyes reflect them,

As you cry at their foam-flecked ride.

 

White horses, caught at the breakers

With manes of wild, white hair

They run at the shallow waters

In the hopes that he’ll be there,

Their eyes are dim at the mourning

As the rollers set them free,

You smile at the heads a-tossing:

“White horses - coming for me.”

 

David Lewis Paget

Author's Note

Written for my mother, shortly after my father died.

Reviews

[Kari]

(I've never written a review before, so sorry if it sucks)
Wow...I really liked that. Good desciptiveness...I could see it all in my head, like I was watching a movie.