She ran through cornflower meadows
As a pretty, doe-eyed maid.
And watched the courtship dance
Of her neighbor's high-withered jade.

She remembered the fury
She saw in his affection
And it tainted and soiled
Her lily-white complexion.

She walked through cornflower meadows,
A path she well did know,
When she saw a swollen-bellied mare
Bleeding in the snow.

She walked toward the rust-flecked dam,
And saw the bloody heap,
Of a honey-colored colt,
In her placenta fast asleep.

She tore apart the sheath,
In frightened desperation,
But the colt fell unmoving in her lap,
And she cried with realization.

She woke in the night flushed with terror,
Cool sweat dampening her hair,
And she crawled like a child
Into her mothers bed,
And softly whispered her confession;
“Mother, I am the mare.”