Wild horses folded into their last night. 
One burrowed against the dead’s descending heat 
as three cantered from the threadbare wood. 

You must leave everything lit 
by city light and Damascus light, anything fueled 
except by your eyes on these animal bodies. 

Species by species, light by light. 

As for the tarpan it shall be for you. 
A reckoning so slow you aren’t even frightened.