no. 6

I'll settle for the 6 horse

on a rainy afternoon

a paper cup of coffee

in my hand

a little way to go,

the wind twirling out

small wrens from

the upper grandstand roof,

the jocks coming out

for a middle race

silent

and the easy rain making

everything

at once

almost alike,

the horses at peace with

each other

before the drunken war

and I am under the grandstand

feeling for

cigarettes

settling for coffee,

then the horses walk by

taking their little men

away-

it is funeral and graceful

and glad

like the opening

of flowers.