Two Poems
Taylor Graham
Taylor Graham Page 1


The two of us
furling flags, semaphores
before a storm~sudden
through clouds, photo-
moment for a mind that tries
to keep such things tightly
rolled and labeled.

How many parts
to a horse?
A newborn foal is all crooks
and angles, trembling

to its knees, its hooves
too tiny and perfect
to bear.
As if it were dancing.

At night we fit
in such small dark spaces
but the mind flies out of its
definitions, amorphous bat
hunting a vector-
course, weaving thin air
of air~
to arrive back
at a window opening
as a young girl wakes up