I once had a blue wooden horse
Maybe it was brown
I carried the horse everywhere
I slept with that horse
Fed it all my love
Gave it all the love it could never return
I called it mother horse and it broke me into
Crimson speckled fragments like crawling insects
The smallest is said to be the fairy fly
It lays its eggs in the eggs of
other insects. Parasitic wasp.
You’d need a microscope to see its heart.
The human heart is like that sometimes.
Did you know the Etruscan pygmy shrew
Is the mammal with the smallest heart?
It eats constantly, as much as twice its
body weight to avoid starvation
I incline my ears to the little mammal
1,200 heartbeats per minute
How fragile, how tender and tough
Savi’s pygmy shrew, White-toothed pygmy shrew
Carrying the weight of
too many names, too many beats, for a small heart.
In cremation, I am told, the heart is the last organ to burn.
Bit by bit.
Mildred K Barya is Assistant professor of creative writing and literature at UNC-Asheville, board member of African Writers Trust (AWT) and has published three poetry books, plus short stories in various journals. She holds a Ph.D. in English from the University of Denver & blogs on literary matters at www.mildredbarya.com.