Hussar “When she rouses herself on high, she outstrips both horse and rider.” -Job 39:18 How firmly I stood: death, the loss of limbs, the poisoning of the blood. Each long spear, our standard mud-soiled we stood together, my men and me and faced down the cavalry their hooves like hammers on the earth: we met them with the banner of the king. I had forgotten how my hand felt to be held the wheeling wheat-gold to your hair and I am there again, silver spurred on that Sunday morning faint with rain with no words between us
Posted on: Sun, 30 Jun 2013 11:26:49 +0000
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