The French Country Horse

Class assignment: Write a poem in French...Much easier to do than in English because I don't have the knowledge or critical voice that I have in my mother tongue.  It's like being 8 years old, and being delighted that you can express your experience by writing words.

However, I wrote a translation.

The brown farm horse

Body undulating, a slow dance,

Steadily coming toward his destination. Me,

 On the side of the road.

Then he stood still and close,

Watching.

So I sketched him.

From time to time I spoke to him in French. 

He didn’t mind my accent.

I thanked him for his welcome.

I thought I heard him say,

“Do not hurry, Madame. Look and see what you can see.

My meadow here, the clouds behind the mountains. 

Poppies... olive trees... vines...

And me.”

“I won’t leave you, 

But when you are ready, continue on your path,

Look around you, see what you can see,

But don’t forget me. (And thank you for my portrait.)

Later, Sandrine asked me if I had gone all the way
To the end of the road.

“No, I failed to reach my destination,”  I said in hesitant French.

Wait...No. Without reaching my destination,

 Yes, I had arrived at my destination!

And my horse, from my sketchbook,

Looked up at me.

And winked.