The Mare (Untitled)

A mare with her foal
Frolicked across a picture-painted field
Beyond her I watched as sunlight picked out
Gleaming metal from a passing train
Such contrary delight
The mare in her fright circled her offspring
And cantered up the hill
The train, oblivious and beautiful
Sped on its way, off into pretty hills
With cheerful whistle.

I watched the horse now grazing peacefully

What crazy life is this
Metal, man, and humanity
Are all one
Why are we taught they are exclusive
None is vanity
Each has a part to play
If there is any incompatibility
It is me.

by Lorna Bain — December 29th, 1985