Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser; Kris and Chris
You wonder if this world will grow kinder eventually,
if there is a piece of some yet-lingering God inside each of us
that has a desire to make something beautiful, or
something beautiful happen, even a little something.
The ponies must have known how the veil had thinned,
how they had already become meat and glue and hide in
the eyes of the auctioneer. “How much to end these
lives?” Bid. Bid high. Sold.
The slaughter truck’s gate-mouth was wide open, its belly
waiting to be filled with the sound of hooves on metal,
fear: its acrid scent, and questions about what a soul
is worth on any given day.
That’s not beautiful. For God’s sake, it is not.
Do you want to cry? I do cry. Does your heart sink and
crumble because you struggle to live in a world
that has coined pain as currency? I struggle.
The stock yard was growing eerily quiet when they left,
the trailer gate locked behind them, no choices of their
own available. Owned.
In truth, I wasn’t actually there to see it. Someone told me
the story about a month later, on the day that I went to meet
the lovely ponies and place kisses on their soft muzzles.
There was so much life in their eyes.
You see, the Gods had conspired to get a few strangers and
a few dollars together, and something beautiful happened.
I wonder about kindness, and what else it can do.
© 2016-207/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Conversations with Mary"
To be published by Talking Waters Press
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