{"id":4405,"date":"2015-07-24T21:50:41","date_gmt":"2015-07-24T21:50:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=4405"},"modified":"2015-07-24T21:50:41","modified_gmt":"2015-07-24T21:50:41","slug":"secretariat-the-red-freak-the-miracle-by-lyn-lifshin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/secretariat-the-red-freak-the-miracle-by-lyn-lifshin\/","title":{"rendered":"Secretariat: The Red Freak, The Miracle by Lyn Lifshin"},"content":{"rendered":"

ON A NIGHT HERONS WERE DIVING THRU THE WAVES OF NIGHT
\n 
\nup in the forties weeks
\npast heavy February snow.
\nGeese on the pond. Bleak,
\ndrizzly. Black mist over
\nMeadow Farm. Grass
\nflattened, matted as in
\nhours straw will be in the
\nfoaling shed, a dark rose
\nspreading under the mare’s
\nheaving sighs
\n 
\nWET GRASS DARKENING
\n 
\nthe walk past the barn
\nas blood would matted
\nstraw before it was
\nlight again. Two figures
\ncross the lawn, the
\nwildness of geese in the
\ndistance. The men
\nget in a car. One bulb
\nhangs in the foaling shed.
\nUnder the almost
\njade slopes roots are
\ngrowing. The mare
\ncalms herself with groan
\nsongs as milk begins
\nto wax, pearls on
\nher nipples like
\n a bud opening
\n 
\nTHRU MIST, ONE LIGHT IN THE FOALING BARN
\n 
\nthe drizzle, close to freezing.
\nIn barn 17 A, the brood
\nmare, Somethingroyal,
\ncarries the last foal of Bold
\nRuler, dying in Kentucky.
\nMilk on her nipples. if
\nthe rafters. If rafters could
\ntalk they would be singing
\nsoon he will be yours and
\nyou must take care of
\nwhat you’ve been given
\n 
\nTHRU DAMP FIELDS PERFUMED WITH OAK LEAVES
\n 
\nthe men moved thru drizzle
\nto barn 17 A, moved over
\ngravel in grey fog, moved
\ntoward the one light. The
\nmare was breathing fast.
\nshe was warm and sweaty,
\nedgy. She was circling
\nas if caged. Then she was
\nlying on her side. Then it
\nwas just a heart beat before
\nthe tip of a foot burst into
\nflower, the first petal of
\nwhat would flower
\n 
\nMARCH 30, JUST PAST MIDNIGHT
\n 
\nShe was warm and her
\nnostrils, wild. Ready,
\nnearly ready. Only
\nthe mare’s breath like
\na silence you could
\nunderstand. The mare
\non straw on her side
\nand just past midnight
\nthe tip of one foot.
\nThen, gently as some
\none kissing eyes that
\nare crying, the foaling
\nman reached in to ease
\na folded leg out of the
\nbirth canal
\n 
\nONCE THE SHOULDER EMERGED
\n 
\nthe men moved closer in the
\nlong blue damp wind. Blood
\non the warm straw. The mare’s
\nbody opening. The men pull
\ngently. Slosh of water and
\nthen the foal’ s slippery body,
\niodine and the smell of birth
\nin the wind the minutes
\nafter midnight. “A wooper,”
\nsome. ” “white feet, a lovely
\ncolt,” in Secretariat’s record
\nfan book. “Lovely,” was
\nunderlined twice.
\n 
\nPAST WILLOWS ON THE MOST WESTERN EDGE OF THE FARM
\n 
\nThe mare’s udder swells
\nwith milk, something
\nwax like drying on her
\nnipples like the just
\npolished swirls of wood.
\nAfter her wild breath,
\nthe heaving, the blood,
\nthree feet and a star,
\ndark flowers of his hair
\nagainst the drained mare
\nfalling back easily as
\nthe wind rising up
\nfrom North Anna’s
\nRiver
\n 
\nRIVETED TO SECRETARIAT’S BURSTING FORTH
\n 
\nthose easing him from
\nSomethingroyal’s body
\nsaid he was on his feet
\nin twenty minutes, in
\n45 he was nursing. “Big
\nstrong, male foal with
\nplenty of bone.” Warm
\nbreath of horses, Carolina
\nRiverwind. In her log,
\nElizabeth Ham the farm
\nsecretary wrote “well
\nmade colt, good straight
\nhind legs, good shoulders,
\ngood quarters: you
\nhave to like him.”
\n 
\nIN PENNY CHENNERY’S NOTEBOOK AFTER THE NIGHT OF DRIZZLE, RAIN
\n 
\nas the river settled
\nand willow leaves
\nyellowed: one
\nword: Wow
\n 
\nWHEN A LEGGY FOAL COMES INTO THE WORLD
\n 
\nand cherry boughs are
\nswelling, hope flowers
\nlike these buds. When
\nthe foal seems different,
\nunlike others, who
\ndoesn’t dream it can
\ngo the distance, that a
\n“miracle has arrived”
\n 
\nHE WAS DIFFERENT
\n 
\nsomeone who was around
\nSecretariat from the time
\nof his birth said he was
\ndifferent. Just walking
\nthe horse in the paddock
\nit was as if the wind
\ntongued the cups of his
\nears and he a flash, if the
\nhandler lost focus, the
\nhorse knew it
\nand was gone
\n 
\nJUST WALKING THE HORSE TO THE PADDOCK
\n 
\na bruiser some
\none said bigger than
\nthe other foals his age.
\nHis legs barely
\ntouched the ground
\nunder the shiny trees.
\nHe could cuff the other
\nfoals, bite and
\nkick . He was playing.
\nLicked by his
\nmare, not only at
\nbirth but long after
\nwith everyone touching
\nand holding him he
\ngrew bolder,
\nconfident
\n 
\nHE HAD A MIND OF HIS OWN
\n 
\nwild for something
\ndeep in the bodies of
\ntrees. He’d bolt in
\na breathbeat. “A very
\naggressive type colt.”
\nJazz in the air. Ghostly,
\nmagical. A loop thru his
\nhalter to keep him in
\ncheck
\n 
\nON THAT FIRST DAY WAS SOMETHING ROYAL
\n 
\nhis mare panting?
\npuzzled? Those huge
\nshoulders. Something
\nshe couldn’t see
\nquivering thru her.
\nThe mare had foaled
\neasily before but
\nthis time, even with
\nher feet on the dirt floor,
\neasier footing than
\ncement but this time
\nwith the foal’s fore leg
\nfolded like a petal
\nbefore it opens,
\nsomeone following
\nthe mare’s contractions
\ngently eased him out of
\nthe birth canal. Beautiful
\nthe vet remembered,
\nhis legs were perfect,
\nhe had a beautiful
\nhead and was
\nred as fire<\/strong>
\n 
\n\"Lyn_at_horse_museum_close_small\"<\/a>
\n Lyn Lifshin at the Horse Museum
\n 
\nLyn Lifshin has published over 140 books and chapbooks and edited three anthologies of women’s writing including Tangled Vines <\/em>that stayed in print 20 years. She has several books from Black Sparrow books. Her web site, www.lynlifshin.com <\/a>shows the variety of her work from the equine books, The Licorice Daughter: My Year with Ruffian <\/em>and Barbaro: Beyond Brokenness<\/em> to recent books about dance: Ballroom, Knife Edge<\/em> and Absinthe<\/em>: The Tango Poems<\/em>. Other new books include For the Roses, poems for Joni Mitchell, All The Poets Who Touched Me; A Girl goes Into The Woods; Malala, Tangled as the Alphabet: The Istanbul Poems. <\/em>Also just out: Secretariat: The Red Freak, The Miracle<\/a> Malala and Luminous Women: Enheducanna, Scheherazade<\/em> and Nefertiti<\/em>. web site:www.lynlifshin.com<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

  <\/p>\n

robin@artvilla.com<\/a>
\n<\/strong>www.facebook.com\/PoetryLifeTimes<\/a>
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

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ON A NIGHT HERONS WERE DIVING THRU THE WAVES OF NIGHT   up in the forties weeks past heavy February snow. Geese on the pond. Bleak, drizzly. Black mist over Meadow Farm. Grass flattened, matted as in hours straw will be in the foaling shed, a dark rose spreading under the mare’s heaving sighs   … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[572,593,43],"tags":[18,136,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4405"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4405"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4405\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4408,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4405\/revisions\/4408"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4405"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4405"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4405"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}