Advent

Poetry Advent The three kings come on horseback in Puerto Rico. My wife left the Magi grass in a shoe box. Advent is a journey. Instead of a prayer I walk. The first Monday in Advent begins in the shade, heavy ground fog. Around horse stables, the hard clay road is good footing for thoroughbreds two years old. I follow the horses’ shoe prints, indentations cut in the sandy ground around the training track. Young horses are social, their eyes bright; they come to the fence line, curious. I investigate them; they investigate me. A leaf blower storms fallen maple leaves, scatters copper treasures. Look—through the woods, carriage drivers, riders, on maneuvers in lessening light. I follow hoof prints of travelers to find more Advent: gifts left in a stable, sweet with horse apple steam, shiny as gemstone eyes of a filly; a child feels the warm breath of animals. ß Michael H. Lythgoe Author biography Michael Hugh Lythgoe holds an MA from The University of Notre Dame and an MFA from Bennington College. He is a retired Air Force Officer, and author of Holy Week poems. He has been twice nominated for a Pushcart. His poems appear in Windhover, Cairn, The Petigru Review, Innisfree Poetry Journal, Pea River and Santa Fe Review. He lives in Aiken, SC. Christianity & Literature 2014, Vol. 64(1) 140–142 ! The Author(s) 2014 Reprints and permissions: sagepub.co.uk/ journalsPermissions.nav DOI: 10.1177/0148333114559659 cal.sagepub.com ...