High Horse

get off your high horse
my mother said

as she laid three
silvery sardine
carcasses
across my sandwich bread

outside the kitchen window
the snow fell like ashes
upon the hours
lined up as hurdles

she stabbed the butter
slit a tomato
smacked the salt shaker
to get it to deliver

my dear she said
you’ve got another thing coming
don’t you

did I?

I saw a horse with ribbons flowing
my arms stretched tight
around its neck

mark my words
one day you will come home
and I’ll be gone

she said

but everyday she was there
and the sardines too.