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The Horse on the Hunnicutt Farm The old mare’s wide head hangs heavy on her puckered frame, all bones and angles. I don’t own her, and she makes this clear. “I can take you or leave you,” her flat shoulder says. “Humans come and go, poor in fealty.” My palm open on her neck admits this truth. I offer her what I can give. Small comforts. I serve her mostly in silence with carrots and combs; currying from her sorrel coat the grains of long neglect. We are satisfied with small beauties: the sunlit copper of a shampooed mane, the swivel of one supple ear, the rich fringe of dark lashes. I whisk the gnarled brush down stiff legs and imagine the day, long ago, when her solitude began, the day the bay mare slipped and didn’t rise, the day 198

Profile for Mojave River Media

Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019  

The Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019 issue spotlights superb poetry and prose by brilliant contributors from around the globe. Enjoy 2...

Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019  

The Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019 issue spotlights superb poetry and prose by brilliant contributors from around the globe. Enjoy 2...

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