HORSES

Have you ever wondered
how horses stand
just thirty minutes after birth,

that a young robin flies
a mere month after it squeezes 
out from its mother’s
cloaca in that bluest 
of eggs?

Oh, to adapt so quickly, so well.

At nineteen I was taught 
the proper technique
for slitting 
a man’s 
throat,

a skill I’ve neither listed
on my resume,
                        nor used.

But the lesson 
still festers.

Robert Okaji served without distinction in the U.S. Navy, and once owned a bookstore. Sixteen months ago he was diagnosed with late stage metastatic lung cancer. Thanks to the wonders of modern science, he still lives in Indiana with his wife—poet Stephanie L. Harper—stepson, and cat. His first full-length collection, Our Loveliest Bruises, will be published by 3: A Taos Press in fall 2024, and his poetry may be found in Only Poems, Big Windows Review, Verse Daily, Broadkill Review, Vox Populi, Taos Poetry Journal, wildness, and at his blog, O at the Edges, at www.robertokaji.com.