Matt, I'm sorry I took so long to get to this and I am also very sorry I was so late getting to this. This is a great poem. The transition first to eating horse flesh and then the transition to "pulling back" and the gift of waiting is all so smoothly done and strong at the same time. This is a metaphysical poem about the great metaphysical theme:
The flesh of horses,
like all flesh, is transient as any blossom
Me being me I do want to say I am a little unsure about the last stanza. I'm a notorious end chopper but do wonder if it ended with
Of all the gifts, waiting is one too often given
would it leave me a little more out in space? The burying of the box brings me back to the earth and I wonder about it. Maybe mess around and see what you think.
This is a brilliant poem and I mean brilliant in an old-fashioned way. It's full of light. I love it.