Feb. 26 2026
3 nights, a horse
Face first in the mud
Paisana says "on your feet"
A felled horse, and shotgun
The earth shakes under pine trees
Kids wipe the slate clean
Bring me to Madrid, where they speak Russian
In large glass hotels and sip cognac
And dream
And the planes never come searing overhead
How many before have chosen a hill
A hill of all places, to die on?
3 nights, a horse
Face first in the mud