New Year’s Day

With heels more in the air than on the road
you reached up and I down, out walking
in frost, and clouds of breath, the cold,
to the stable, its smell, to watch them breathing.

And the stalls empty; but out on the hill –
you stacked on the fence – they whinnied and threw
heads and tails, the brown and the white, as they spilled
down to us out of the old year, into the new.