Winged horses
Who cannot fly
Cast in bronze
Tears in eye
They cannot lift
The feathered gowns
As tourists photograph
They make no sound.
Windswept now
In Winters gale
To forage
For eyes to frame
In wonders glow
Upon a freezing night
Those mighty wings
Free of flight.
In silence
Loneliness it bites
Upon a bridge
Where cherubs dance
And night time
With its cloak of grey
Falls as mist
No words to say.