Sammamish Animal Sanctuary

At the horse fence

in her yellow slicker,
the leukemic child asks,
“Is that Spirit?”

“She’s like Spirit,” her mother says


She reaches toward the horse
who turns her dark muzzle away

Even while bleeding into the earth
Abel's hand bobbed toward Cain

Even while her bones dissolve,
she’ll say to her nurse,


“This weekend, I met Spirit.”

And the nurse, on her longest hour, will
grip her diet soda and think about

ghosts.