In verse: Maine places and people


Produced by Dennis Camire

This week’s poem is by Jim Thatcher of Yarmouth. His most recent book is “Lesser Eternities,” published by Deerbrook Editions.


Horse Tale

By Jim Thatcher


On that summer afternoon when he was six years old

and they told him that those high many-plumed grasses

out on the frontier between the yard and the woods

were called “horsetail” he galloped out into the herd —

played and played, rode and rode — raced, bucked

into stampede, round-up, rustlers, raids; charged the fort,

outrode the posse of supper time until they reined him in,

made him sit at the table, mind his manners,

then eased up after he’d eaten, let him charge back out —

A one-kid cavalry through early evening, twilight

drawing down its shades on the day’s adventures

until they pulled him back in again

with their gentle coaxing lasso of love

and at last he dismounted the day, let them put him to bed,

where he nodded off to the whinny of grasses

whispering in the breeze outside his open window…


Dennis Camire can be reached at [email protected]