A Horse Grazes in My Shadow

Startled by my breath it bolts 
to the other end of the field. 

The horizon's brow rasps 
against a green cloud

which seems both
desperate and sincere.  

Into a dead tree
a flame of bird

drives its burning beak.
And somewhere out here

I have come to terms
with my brother's suicide. 

I wish the god of this place 
would put me in its mouth 

until I dissolve, until 
the field doesn't end

and I am broken open
like a shotgun, 

swabbed clean.