Let the Body Speak

Sun-dogged mornings, biting cold
in Northern Minnesota.
Sparkling snow,
Frost on the young men’s whiskers,
This was us, we were young.

The mare, Kate, the huge work-horse
that Charley bought from Olaf,
(Sly devil that he was, for all our
labour - he sold us a horse with
bowed front legs.)
But in the early mornings, her
bowed legs, her
huge body
Didn’t matter.
She pranced in the lines, glad to be alive
And eager to get to work.

My own body - reclaimed.
Not sagged under the weight of denial.
It happened.
This is what happened,
And also _____


Jenny Stimac