Requiem

I wrote this as an assignment for University after Krisjan's death. I still think it packs some good emotion though. Enjoy.

A Knights Homecoming

His pony stood still on the road.
She was the matted grey of an overcast November sky
with traces of quicksilver bursting off her muzzle.
Her kneecaps were crowned with white
and her hooves were cracked and flat from travel.
Her saddle was empty.

A carpet of leaves flooded the dyke on either side of the road
building upwards
until the fiery tongues of the dead foliage
were lapping at the gravel.
A wind blew over the hillcrest
and down into the woods
and sharply through the naked trees
like a ghost song.

I saw his pony on the road,
the phantom steed of a dead warrior –
and I saw that his banner was slung over the beasts neck,
it was his wounded soul.
I could feel that the saddle was still warm.

I crept close to his pony and whispered in her ear,
“Fear not for your purpose, though these are lonely days –
for you shall now carry us when we are wounded.”
The beast then snorted a cold breath
and stirred her hooves
and I took the banner from her neck
and laid it to rest among the White elms and Jack pines,
“Sleep easy now that you are free, my dear friend.”

From up the road
I could hear quite clearly
in the autumn stillness
the falling wail of our Companies trumpet
calling out to all Knights
far from home.