Gresham’s Wooden Horse, poem by Laila Sumpton
This is a response piece by a ‘roaming’ resident at Who Are We? project.
Gresham’s Wooden Horse
Your mug of tea (made just how I like it)
was sent to the lab for testing.
If the isotopes align-
you can stay for a biscuit.
But until then
I need to stop and search your handshake.
You’re bearing gifts again.
your wooden horse hooves my lawn
a little too close to the bird feeder.
The cat has dug her claws in.
What is hidden in it’s smile?
What unstamped words are smuggled in?
I’m going for my torch
please be gone when I return
or have an explanation?
The gift horse grins
it’s international dentures
it’s fillings bright with dodo change,
dowry gold and all the bullets