TWELVE HORSES

Alison Dunhill


Two horses, graceful and shining in slanted sun, heavy, gentle; they tread on cuckoo spit and celandine.

Three horses, piebald, skewbald, strawberry roan.

Four horses, childhood heroes, Palomedes, Trephalus, Michalaedes, Agamemnon.

Five horses from Roydon Common, the New Forest, the Shetlands.

Six horses, standing head to tail, upright off-camera, flicking flies.

Seven horses, de Chirico still.

Eight horses; a shimmer of nerves in tensed flanks.

Nine horses, their snorting breath clouding; a whinny.

Ten horses, alert to two humans wearing grey hoods, opening the gate.

Eleven horses at a canter, treading and spreading the ragwort and plantain, the red campion and the celandine, outside the fence.

Twelve horses at a gallop, to the open level crossing; the train.

A response to the incident in November 2014, between Cambridge and Ely, when twleve horses were deliberately let out of a field near an open level crossing.

Alison Dunhill — First published pamphlet at aged 20. James Tate Prize 2021 for latest pamphlet As Pure as Coal Dust. Recently published in surVision and Fenland Poetry Journal and represented in one current and one forthcoming anthology.