Empty paddock

The horse has gone

the bathtub too

The grass is long in the paddock

There is no shade there so I do not sit and contemplate the loss

I keep walking, my skin throbbing in the heat

while I grapple with the title of a poem

I have not yet written

about whether this need for fulfillment

can ever be sated

Did the horse die or did they just move it to greener pastures?