The Last Centaur

The demise of the final Man/horse

He lay at the meadow's edge

forelegs folded beneath him.

 His dark Chestnut body molten

where muscle quivers in sunlight.

 

The light mist seems to lend sheen to his coat;

burgundy and black in decendant light.

His hair like liquid silver where

touched by the sun.

 

His underbelly, ebony

with tracks of pearly irrdescence

where dampness runs.

 

He does not move seems barely to breathe.

His chin nestled in a beard of ice-gray

rests on his still muscular chest. His eyelids flutter

as though they may soon close forever.

 

He has returned to the secluded meadow

 of his foal years for the last time.

 As the sun ebbs from the sky, a feeble whinny,

 a last expulsion of breath...

 

His head droops. I gaze at the lengthing shadows,

fingers of darkness that grasp at multi colored autumn branches.

When I look back, he is gone----

 like a cloud burned away by the sun. 

 

 

Reviews

[SpokenWord]

A very different write for you, an ending of life or is it a new beginning, but your descriptive is superb with images that paint a picture for us. I have wonder what was on his mind in that last breathe as he reached out to natures autumn life. Different and very good writing by you.

[Miss Sally Sunshine]

This was very good. Your great use or words really created an image in my head. This poem is different for you, but it is still good. Nice job.

[Chris38]

I found this extremely poignant. Centaurs are fascinating creatures in mythology and the thought of the last one dying all alone is quite heartbreaking.

[Valentine]

For some unknown reason..I really love this write..it is sad and yet it tells a story..Keep them coming love and God bless..Kathie

[Robin]

imaginative , with evocative descriptives that bring the emotion to this sad scene ...