by Mark Ward
Adrift in a sea of cheap carpet,
the manes of the translucent horses
knit around a sail gathering wind.
Beneath the crosshatched fabric,
their bodies expand in the darkness;
their limbs act as icebergs, as sins.
Struggling for grip above quicksand,
their mouths mesh looking for purchase
as the mast flickers out, flickers in.
Breaths shared in time like a life vest,
they close their eyes in worship,
splitting the surface like a fin.
About Mark Ward
Mark Ward is a poet from Dublin, Ireland. He was the 2015 Poet Laureate of Glitterwolf and his work has appeared in Assaracus, Tincture, The Good Men Project and Storm Cellar amongst others. He has been featured in the anthologies Not Just Another Pretty Face, The Myriad Carnival and Out of Sequence: The Sonnets Remixed. He is a regular on Dublin’s spoken word scene and was in the 2016 Lingo Festival. He has recently completed his full-length collection, How to Live When Life Subtracts, from which this poem is taken.