John Grey’s most recent poem here was Toppling Tree (August 2011).
A Saturday in May
By John Grey
By John Grey
I watch the Derby
but these are not my horses.
They race down the straightaway
but don’t stop to nibble on grasses.
They strain at the girth,
their muscles bulge,
legs fly out of the dust
but not a colt, a filly,
chase butterflies,
snort the crystal clear mountain air,
gaze glassy-eyed at my right hand
for signs of a carrot.
There’s action in the betting ring
at Churchill Downs
but my money’s on
the pinto mare I’m riding.
If you love what your doing you always win. I’ve never been to a derby, but you made this perfectly clear.