Just after the stop sign, a chestnut horse
at the fence by the road, grazing lazily,
scratching an itch on the boards. I was
happy, though a long drive lay before me.
I stopped the car, rolled down the driver
window, called out good morning, half
expecting a reply. The chestnut horse
ignored me mostly, though for a moment
those deep, round eyes met mine, and then
a biting fly took precedence.

In the rearview mirror, another car approached,
waited. Window up, I rolled on. Soon, a deer,
on my right at the edge of a plat of deep green
ferns, and later, more horses, a field of fat cows.
Still, the car, always a curve behind pushing me
with unknown force toward town, and people.
Just there, at the edge of bustle and rush, my eyes
flew up to catch an eagle rising off water, wing
beats steady with lift and gravitas, angling north,
two smaller birds chasing after it.