21
The horses keep tossing their heads and stamp the hollow
       flooring,
wheel knocks into wheel
as the ferry glides out into a damp wind.

The coal-truck horses, three abreast, ponderously,
sides and rumps shaking.

With blown manes and tails
the horses fling themselves along lifting their riders.

The thin horses step beside the lawns in the park,
the small hoofs newly oiled,
heads high, their red nostrils taking the air.