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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

E. J. Evans


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Mist, Then Horses

Who can say how far one's life extends?
My sister loved horses with a love
that took her far. She always wanted
to visit Iceland because she'd heard
about the horses there, but she never made it.
But once when I was there, traveling through
the Öxnadalur Valley in dense fog, I saw horses emerge
from the gray mist as I passed through.
First nothing but mist, then horses.
And because horses are friends to spirits, I asked them,
do you know my sister? Do you know Jan?