The bay filly tied to the stoutest apple tree
Finds the right height sucker to break and put
Her left eye out. She is crying her left eye out.
Already the ooze of half her world is what I get
For my stupidity. With her face to the sun,
Her muzzle trapped by the small green apples,
She lets the black stud mount. Sour, green maternity.
She broods. This half of what she’ll ever see
Right now, through sharp leaves, the sunlight dapples.
—from The Abandoned Country (Carnegie Mellon, 1988)