Monday, September 04, 2006

A Hunter's Song

Now in the moon of Mabon
as the harvest and the hunt
draw the man from the hearth
and the warmth of his woman’s
good thighs…

we will see.

The home fires will be lit
and Branta canadensis
searching for maize, wheat, barley or oats
will fall to the siren call
of love or lessened hunger
in fields once thought to be
sanctuary.

The home fires will be lit
and the stag will err
with his velvet horn tattered
in his musty rut
and soon hang
as a pendant
of hubris.

The home fires will be lit
and the drakes will denounce
their mother’s wisdom
in favor of fantasy
sweet nothings
and death
from double reeds
double guns
and breath moistened cocobolo.

The home fires will be lit
and the bruin
in avarice and desperation
will blunder into the brambles
where he’ll know the singing
bowstring too late
with the taste of berries mixing with blood.

We will see
again
the dance of hunted and prey
of ourselves in the fray
and wonder aloud about our fate
as the home fires burn bright
in our absence.

4 comments:

Rappaccini's Daughter said...

you know, i think about this line every day since i first read it days ago

"draw the man from the hearth
and the warmth of his woman’s
good thighs"

my favorite line; all your juxtapositions here work so very well

KGT said...

Thank you daughter of Rappaccini and the Renaisance.

Jo Janoski said...

HI, The ROTB is posted. Thanks for taking part.
http://jojanoski.wordpress.com/2006/09/24/the-ringing-of-the-bards-xiv/

Soulless said...

Bless you for wielding, with much clarity, words and lines that convey the several scenes in this piece... most of which feature the prey in motion. Ingenious.

Thank you for sharing this. Cheers. ^_^