Scott's View

Stared out. Abused by casual eyes
Which flick through pages
With coffee table minds.
We taste but never swallow
Spitting snapshots
In long to be forgotten
Books. Ticking lists
And moving on before we stop.
 
Here?
From where before his grave
Two horses held his gaze
In patient pause, to recollect
The man where dreams of legend
Came alive. Before they felt time’s whip
And left to pull his shell
On, and into, history
 
And so we follow,
Passing time in shallow worship
Wearing out the land
With reckless gape
Taking comfort that we share
A place with him
Before,
Our horses come.