One white,
one red,
one black
Three horses are drinking at the riverbank
They drink at their own pace, some up
Sometimes their
heads reach the
river
At the same
time
As if a river were flowing
As their minds flow from the river source
Still innocent, clear, undisturbed
The sun is setting slowly
A man watches, without blinking
How a river disappears into the night
Held in the mouths of three
horses