Through the mist of forgotten fields,
he comes— no breath,
no heart, only thunder beneath him,
a pulse borrowed from the hooves of his steed.
He rides where names are swallowed
by the river’s cold mouth,
where prayers break like brittle twigs
under the weight of the wind.
Once, he had a face.
It glowed like iron before the forge,
it dreamed of love, of sleep, of sunrise.
Now, he carries only memory’s echo—
a skull of fire,
or none at all,
depending on who dares to look.
Villagers bolt their shutters,
but sound travels— the whisper of his reins,
the low snarl of the horse’s breath,
the silence
that follows— all speak the same omen:
someone will not see morning.
He is the debt that never dies,
the hunger
of the battlefield made flesh again,
seeking the head
the world owes him,
or perhaps the reason he lost it.
The forest bends away from his passing,
leaves trembling like frightened tongues.
Even the moon averts her gaze,
as if ashamed
of how easily men are unmade.
And when he rides through your dreams,
know this—
he does not chase you.
He remembers you.
And memory is the cruelest pursuit of all.
Photo credits: John Quidor, “The Headless Horseman Pursing Ichabod Crane.”
Merril hosts at dVerse where she invites us to write a poem on some version
of the headless horseman. Come join us! 💙
Posted for Poetics: Don’t lose your head @dVerse Poets Pub
32 Responses
Truly ghost tale that fits you so well… love all the imagery of this frightening tale, but also how much he will stay in your memory and that he remembers you… so scary to have a place in such a creature’s reckoning…
Thank you so much, Bjorn 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Oh, this is so good, Sanaa! Not a love poem . . .or maybe it is. 😊
I love:
“He rides where names are swallowed
by the river’s cold mouth,”
And your ending is perfect!
Thank you so much, Merril 😘 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
(and thank you for the glorious prompt) 🥂
I absolutely reveled in the imagery and every phrasing of this wonderful poem, Sanaa. I especially loved “a pulse borrowed from the hooves of his steed” and “leaves trembling like frightened tongues.” Spine-tinglingly good. 🙂
Thank you so much, Dora 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
“He is the debt that never dies,
the hunger
of the battlefield made flesh again,
seeking the head
the world owes him,
or perhaps the reason he lost it.”
My favourite verse
Much♡love
Thank you so much, Gillena 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
Much love back to you 🥂
This is my kind of poem, Sanaa! I love a ghost story/poem. And this one is stunning. I love the idea of the horseman having ‘a pulse borrowed from the hooves of his steed’; prayers breaking ‘like brittle twigs under the weight of the wind; and these lines:
‘He is the debt that never dies,
the hunger
of the battlefield made flesh again,
seeking the head
the world owes him,
or perhaps the reason he lost it.’
I’m so glad you took this seriously, unlike me, who had my tongue firmly ion my cheek. 😉
Thank you so much, my dearest Kim 😍 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I really like how the horseman makes nature “ashamed of how easily men are unmade.” So good.
Thank you so much, Maria 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
A wonderfully immersive tale and a real capturing of the painting – Jae
Thank you so much, Jae 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Oh wow, beautifully written I loved it and this stanza is just amazing.
He rides where names are swallowed
by the river’s cold mouth,
where prayers break like brittle twigs
under the weight of the wind.
Thank you so much, Di 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
👏👏👏
❤️❤️❤️
great imagery and very eerie too! 🙌
Thank you so much, Ange 😀 so glad the poem spoke to you 💄❤️
Saana, this is a fabulous poem. I love the tone you set. Spooky is perfect for this time of year. ❤️
Thank you so much, Colleen 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
OH Sanaa! Your poem is all-encompassing. The picture you paint, the story you tell, the emotion, the clarity !!! I loved each and every line.
Thank you so much, Helen 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Whoa. That is quite the tale! It all makes the title even more fitting. So many phrases got my attention; what a strong finish with that ominous final stanza.
Thank you so much, D. Avery 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Even the moon averts her gaze,
as if ashamed
of how easily men are unmade.
These are great lines!
Thank you so much, Aaron 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Great treatment of the legend with all sorts of intruiging tropes – “He rides where names / are swallowed
by the river’s cold mouth”, “a skull of fire, / or none at all, / depending on who dares to look” and the final lines. All excellent. Why are some legends haunting, and does that give them permanence in cultural memory?
Thank you so much, Brendan 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
This is so well written, and frightening. Love the ending as well.
“He rides where names are swallowed
by the river’s cold mouth,
where prayers break like brittle twigs
under the weight of the wind.”
Thank you so much, Sara 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️