Gher the Hound
I woke in bloody sheets,
the bandages undone,
the body’s dream of pain
unwound; the torn
flesh gapes, and yellow curds
of fat uprisen from the maw swell pale.
Sweet fat that makes the curve of my arm
round lovely, that forms the turn of calf
and lush of thigh. Now blood runs red
as blessing, cleans the wounds.
what flows away
I was walking
in the high meadow, parting waves
of insects in wild grass. The voice said
lie down here
and be done with wandering.
My thoughts were philandering like bees.
I was transparent, safe as a maiden in the garden.
No maiden is safe in the garden.
The animal came upon me and I fought,
and beat at its head and neck, went for its eyes,
as red as if his shot out eyes bled bright
and blood exploded in his skull.
Claws ripped my arms
and nerves shot up like flames on a screen.
Dog’s breath on my face, sick with my own
blood on his tongue, I fought. I held.
So once we owned dominion.
And yes, the fruit becomes a bird
and flies away.
The flower becomes a bee.
I am a woman, and I would not be
meat for the dead.
Lie down here and be done with wandering
for the kingdom is at hand.
