(All night long,)

In troweling sand, and pulling brick apart,
My shovel found a dark green horse,
Fashioned from malachite.
I took him home and found him a stall
Next to my Old Grand-dad.
I listened to him breathe

All night long.

The morning brought nothing but confusion;
My skin had changed to velvet down,
The color of conifers, and shimmering.
He'd stolen away, made off with my Old Grand-dad.
I stared into the mirror.

All night long.