12 Degrees & Skiving

what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice

artemis I

he first came upon her at the river
on a day he tracked alone, snaring songbirds
for supper, his hounds at rest
upstream
in willowshade
the applause of water
drowned out his sigh for the pout
of shoulder and buttock
the goldygold longbow of her back
all smooth and planed as the boulder
her perch that graced midstream
moated
he staunched the swell of greeting at his molars
that neck
the plastered locks
the smears of rivermud
midthigh
he read her
quiet
quiet
like the trails he followed

~

it wasn’t a shadow
for the sun washed her face
it wasn’t a scent
the jasmine was heady
hung, ready
this time of day
nor was it a sound, as such
for the bees wobbled
pollendrunk, thrumming air
perhaps a taste? a slight salt?
she felt him there nonetheless
not all at once – she might have stiffened
and interrupted whatever it was
the gods were playing at this season
she did not turn
she let herself sink onto the intrusion
the way she did any other boar or stoat or fox
breathed and breathed
and waited for the stag to leave

Screen Shot 2013-12-04 at 8.55.38 PM

Tell me wotcha reckon

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This entry was posted on May 9, 2013 by in Mythology and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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