Smile on the Edge by Nancy Etchemendy
Don’t tell me not to smile
when I contemplate the edge.
You don’t know my mind,
the flavor of the wind
on this rocky plateau,
how the horse between my thighs,
povrecito, wants only to be free,
how it strains in its rage and sorrow
toward this darkness
where I must surely follow,
my hands so raw,
its mouth so bloody
I have let go the reins.
The smile makes a small pool,
a memory of how water tastes,
of sky colors,
the scent of virgin grass,
things the darkness cannot offer,
and the horse feels this.
Don’t tell me
the smile costs too much,
that it is a bad bargain.
You do not know.
This poem was selected by Beth M. (Library Administration)
