The Horsebreaker. A Holiday Piece

This being the holiday season I though you might like this further edited piece  from the collection 'A Life in Short Pieces'. It was inspired by a holiday visit made by me and my little family to a Scottish farm in the 1970s. The children enjoyed it and so did I.

The Horse Breaker

 Now here is the man. His clanking boots

stamp the tender clover underfoot.

In his  wiry brown hand he clutches

a woven leather whip. His weathered face glows

and his  black eyes glitter -

ready for the work of his morning

Later today - in his thousand year ritual -

we’ll walk his fields, beat his boundaries,

and check his fences. He’ll point out the ruins

of antique houses, built stone on stone by

his own ancient forbears.

I’ll tramp across the fields by the side

of this man who breaks horses.

The sun is not shining but my face is glowing. I am-

feeling cool but still my features burn.

We stay by  a long gate and a bird spins upward

beating its wings in the cool air

The man makes kissing noises, his mouth pursed.

One horse snickers and -steam rising from its flanks -

Canters in our direction across the tussocky field.

The horse’s  roughened coat sports  a rank shine

and its mouth glitters with sores -

ancient scores, still not settled.

Now two birds spin upwards in

what looks like feral combat -

all fluttering and  hoarse chirruping  –

a dispute with only one resolution