I used to picture myself on that horse
that rides from sunset to sunset,
leaving nothing behind but long shadows

the dream that makes of loneliness
a virtue and of love a dull ache
to cleanse the heart of wistfulness.

Me and Shane. While they’re resting in peace
we’re saddling our horses, checking our
provisions, eyes glazed wide open,

while they’re calling out we’re receding
into the distance, over the rise.
They never see us looking back, blinking

into the new sunrise at our backs