Late Night with Fog and Horses <\/p>\n
They were in the living room. Saying their
\ngoodbyes. Loss ringing in their ears.
\nThey’d been through a lot together, but now
\nthey couldn’t go another step. Besides, for him
\nthere was someone else. Tears were falling
\nwhen a horse stepped out of the fog
\ninto the front yard. Then another, and
\nanother. She went outside and said,
\n“Where did you come from, you sweet horses?”
\nand moved in amongst them, weeping,
\ntouching their flanks. The horses began
\nto graze in the front yard.
\nHe made two calls: one call went straight
\nto he sheriff – “someone’s horses are out.”
\nBut there was that other call, too.
\nThen he joined his wife in the front
\nyard, where they talked and murmured
\nto the horses together. (Whatever was
\nhappening now was happening in another time.)
\nHorses cropped the grass in the yard
\nthat night. A red emergency light
\nflashed as a sedan crept in out of fog.
\nVoices carried out of the fog.
\nAt the end of that long night,
\nwhen they finally put their arms around
\neach other, their embrace was full of
\npassion and memory. Each recalled
\nthe other’s youth. Now something had ended,
\nsomething else rushing in to take its place.
\nCame the moment of leave-taking itself.
\n“Goodbye, go on,” she said.
\nAnd then pulling away.
\nMuch later,
\nhe remembered making a disastrous phone call.
\nOne that had hung on and hung on,
\na malediction. It’s boiled down
\nto that. The rest of his life.
\nMalediction. <\/p>\n
Raymond Carver<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Late Night with Fog and Horses They were in the living room. Saying their goodbyes. Loss ringing in their ears. They’d been through a lot together, but now they couldn’t go another step. Besides, for him there was someone else. … Continue reading