One Poem by Gene Barry

 

Contriting

 

The horse sailed into town,

saddle polished, silent whip cracking

and without clip-clopping rode quietly

into the arena of a family entertaining life.

 

Saddle bags of disbelief were dissemination

and crept into love pumps that bleated

bewilderment stuffed in grief. Murmurs

of helplessness galloped into each other.

 

No notch on the rider’s gun handle

for that purposeful void that’s left to linger,

no note of explanation for the kidnapping;

just grief and time to work it out.

 

Did he stroke his minion lovingly

before they carefully double saddled,

his pillion lapping the choicelessness

and speaking in a different tongue?

 

Did they both plead and beg and bargain,

spray contrition over each other’s pain,

leave gifts all coated in memories waiting

to be slowly and lovingly unwrapped?

Gene Barry - Irish Poet, Art Therapist, Counsellor, Hypnotherapist and Psychotherapist.