Horses

There is a house in a yard that sits
behind a field where horses used to run. 
The field sits empty, bare.  Fence posts still appear
scattered at the edges of the field. 
Those posts once helped to form a large fence
that kept the horses from running too far. 
Sometimes horses would approach the yard,

stopping only for the fence that
separated the field from the yard. 
The old dogs had long ago learned to
tolerate the horses, even when
one would reach over to take an apple
from the yard’s lone tree.  But the young dogs
were jealous, and would shout protests

at the trespassing horse,
who had also learned to tolerate
the yelps of the frustrated puppies. 
Over time the old dogs went away
and the young dogs took their places. 
But the young dogs stopped arriving

and none replaced the last of the old dogs. 
Fewer horses came to the yard,
though the tree still offered its fruit. 
Finally, no horse was there to
accept the gifts of the tree,
though the tree still offered its fruit.