In the Microbial Forest

Acrylics and gel pen on canvas. 6×6 inches.

The incident of the “neglected” horse who died on the property adjoining the one where I live seems to be coming up in my art — “haunting” me, I guess you could say. When people in rural areas lose their homes to foreclosure, the animals may suffer, too. I’m much more aware of animal life living in this area, and that awareness has brought both pleasure and sadness. What’s the point of having animals in your life if you don’t take care of them properly?

A poem from April, 2011 (“what’s-her-name” was the horse mentioned above):

Living Things

April 19, 2011

Full moon night, I’ve experienced many,
but never a night of hooting owls
crickets and frogs
with you.

Well, maybe
the frogs. But never
the bats. Screech owls yes;
and that “headless,” four-legged
apparition, munching cheeseweed in the mist

was the pony, what’s-her-name, with that
glorious burr-buttoned mane, and her
escort, “Lobito” –
both, like us,