inhaled whispers of white sage, drifted
from the lodge as elders, doe skin russet,
reached for staffs of yew and trembled
from the light of the spring moon.
Markings magic, penned by pollen paste,
sprawl across tanned shoulders, gypsy bell tinctures
sung mysteries and followed spines autumn curve
beneath delicate jade hair beads.
He watched her from behind river reeds, illusive frailty,
wont smiles and scared questions asked spirits
to guide the Hunters heart, lip quivering patience,
into her waiting arms.
Long lashes lingered, summer buzzing
clipped cicada wings, sand castle imperfections,
spear tips were shooting stars, and bags of salt
dwindled from ashen potions.
Her belly swelled, fingernails drew circles on his bronze
thighs, he dreamt of fire while she thought of names,
snows passing ever frosty and fledgling love
tied their souls together.
Fetish foci and feathered, toes in red earth,
the village chanted tribal hymns, finding her silhouette
fettered on winter mornings musings and quieted
misty puffs of breath.
This dawn too still, she painted her eyes with copper mud,
remembering the stories of devils in shadows,
the man on the litter, a flameless pyre waiting below,
was her husband's still body.
It rained for three days, her labor dull in comparison to
burning him with more bundles of white sage and glass
beads from her plaits, she mourned signals in smoke
and named her son
from the lodge as elders, doe skin russet,
reached for staffs of yew and trembled
from the light of the spring moon.
Markings magic, penned by pollen paste,
sprawl across tanned shoulders, gypsy bell tinctures
sung mysteries and followed spines autumn curve
beneath delicate jade hair beads.
He watched her from behind river reeds, illusive frailty,
wont smiles and scared questions asked spirits
to guide the Hunters heart, lip quivering patience,
into her waiting arms.
Long lashes lingered, summer buzzing
clipped cicada wings, sand castle imperfections,
spear tips were shooting stars, and bags of salt
dwindled from ashen potions.
Her belly swelled, fingernails drew circles on his bronze
thighs, he dreamt of fire while she thought of names,
snows passing ever frosty and fledgling love
tied their souls together.
Fetish foci and feathered, toes in red earth,
the village chanted tribal hymns, finding her silhouette
fettered on winter mornings musings and quieted
misty puffs of breath.
This dawn too still, she painted her eyes with copper mud,
remembering the stories of devils in shadows,
the man on the litter, a flameless pyre waiting below,
was her husband's still body.
It rained for three days, her labor dull in comparison to
burning him with more bundles of white sage and glass
beads from her plaits, she mourned signals in smoke
and named her son
