chiloé

i watch the horses

and they're staying where the grass grows higher
and the weeds reach up to their flanks
but we can get close enough to reach out 
and touch where the hair bristles on the edge of their spine

the ground is patchy and dark
but who
could look at the ground
when all you can see are the dark ocean waves 
and all you can hear
are the seals crying from the rocky islands

i can smell the salt and the earth
and the wind would blow me away
if i were not so grounded
grounded in this moment

but when i climb el muelle de las almas
and i scream out for the ferryman
to carry me into the sky
i can only hear the wind answering back 
and horses run