<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Horses of Construction<\/strong><\/p>\n Mane bristle-rigid, In the fruit garden, every tree is in a row On the river path The bricks The edge of the old clay pit <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Fianna <\/strong>(Fiona Russell Dodwell) is from Fife and lives in the Fens. She has had poems published in IS&T, I am not a silent poet<\/em> and Three drops from a cauldron.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Horses of Construction Mane bristle-rigid, the black pony drives hooves fast into red ground, resists the pull. In the fruit garden, every tree is in a row and bowed low with stone fruit. Beyond velvet plums and fizzy moon along the dark wall small Shetlands are espaliered head to tail on the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10011","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10011","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10011"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10011\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10014,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10011\/revisions\/10014"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10011"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10011"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10011"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nthe black pony
\ndrives hooves fast into red ground,
\nresists the pull.<\/p>\n
\nand bowed low with stone fruit.
\nBeyond velvet plums and fizzy moon
\nalong the dark wall
\nsmall Shetlands are espaliered head to tail on the top wire,
\nforeheads lowered, docile, blinking;
\nsome with bulging skulls like embryos on a stave.
\nThey look patient.
\nIt seems inevitable.
\nMy bent body screams no sound.<\/p>\n
\na black mare grinds forward,
\nreined in close against the high wall,
\nled by the bit from above.
\nA wide blinker crosses from outside eye to brick,
\nso she sees no river.
\nShe sees nothing
\nbut wall.<\/p>\n
\nare each one different.
\nThey grab her into
\nseething worlds
\nof red and yellow,
\neach scene newly thrown, like gravel,
\nat each blink,
\neach footfall.<\/p>\n
\nhosts biting stonecrop
\nand pimpernel.
\nThey push through stone,
\nlaugh over banks, and
\ngallop down
\ncrumbling
\ngullies,
\nwhere a mare drinks
\ndeep from silt-water,
\nher face reflected cloudy red.<\/p>\n