Insomnia: For My Grandfather

Only now can I see him there,
leaning hard against a snowfence
in North Dakota, long past midnight,
looking out on the long white plains,
the glacial moon and the horses
he had broken, asleep on their feet,
their warm breath blossoming
in the freezing air, and know
how much he must have loved them
to bring them to this world, how
much of their wildness he took
for himself, and what it cost him
to have touched that power and to
have tamed it, over and over, always
to find himself on this side, standing
there, uneasy, until morning.