Old Lilacs by Ted Kooser

Through early April cold,
these thin gray horses
have come near the house
as to a fence, and lean there
hungry for summer,
nodding their heads
with a nickering of twigs.

Their long legs are dusty
from standing for months
in winter’s stall, and their eyes
are like a cloudy sky
seen through bare branches

They are waiting for May
to come up from the barn
with her overalls pockets
stuffed with the fodder
of green.  In a month
they will be slow and heavy,
their little snorts so sweet
you’ll want to stand
among them, breathing.