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He Kicks Like a Bull
by
Julianne Carlile |
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He stands still as a small statue
but the eyes keep rolling,
looking for movement...
any sign at all that someone's there--
in his world, a big NO,
and will not be tolerated--no--
no way, no how, no reason for it.
It always happens and there
something moves or someone, some wrong
thing that must be told right away:
"You are not wanted here."
His hind end quivers all over,
growls come from deep down in his throat,
his eyes light up with fires damped until now,
and he starts his familiar dance: his leg
stretches out in back and points
like a ballerina at barre,
then the other leg but that one vibrates.
And then it's all over with: both legs start
to kick in rhythm, clumps of
grass are lifted and fly backwards,
his front feet paw the ground in frenzy,
his head lowers and raises as he
snorts and sneezes--completely lost in it now,
he has not thought of me or looked.
But now he stops, his look so clear:
"It's really something, isn't it?"
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--Submitted by Julianne Carlile on 2011-05-15.
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Julianne Carlile:
I used Dale Ritterbusch's poem "She Throws Like a Girl" as the template for this poem. Sorry, Dale, I should have said so before. I did mention it on my blog.
Posted 11/26/2011 07:25 AM
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