Henry Charles Bukowski

¹6

I'll settle for the 6 horse
on a rainy afternoon
a paper cup of coffee
in my hand
a little way to go, 
the wind twirling out
small wrens from
the upper grandstand roof, 
the jocks coming out
for a middle race
silent
and the easy rain making
everything
at once
almost alike, 
the horses at peace with
each other
before the drunken war
and I am under the grandstand
feeling for
cigarettes
settling for coffee, 
then the horses walk by
taking their little men 
away-
it is funeral and graceful
and glad
like the opening
of flowers.