Pat Lowther

Cloud Horses

for Beth

In my daughter's dream
are black horses
and white horses;
she says there are
also cloud horses
for every colour of sky

Under her closed
eyelids her eyes move
following horses;
she will not say more,
she has decided to keep
her dreams private

She moves in sleep
and in the country
of her days where
i cannot follow:
i see her riding away
on a horse whose colour
i have no name for