Horses

in a field constrained
by cultural fences
though wild in veneer
they stare at the wind
riding shape-shifting clouds
with a twisted sneer
and consider cars
racing into the heart
of the triple crown
home money children
and huddle by the far fence
at a place where
the grass grows tall
in dreams for the stream
eroding the upper places
to the commons
where pilgrims hunt witches
or a white lightening-bolt
is swallowed by the green giant