Malachite

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 granddad
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 granddad
I stared into the mirror
All night long