By E.S. Wynn
That memory. Mist. Letters cut in stone. House, warm. Hay loft. Hair short– bone knife. Warm smell, horse. Hands. Smiling, welcome. Happy late. Pater smiles:
Boys run, play. Mud. Anger and knowledge. Hate self. House, wooden floor. Sweeping, chickens. Mists. Stone wall, road to forever. Cold winters. Knowledge of purpose, decision. Minerva. Love of old Rome, strength. Pater smiles. I choose:
Red and armor. Deeper voice. Cold mists, shivering anger. Shorter– doesn’t matter. They don’t know the truth. I fight like the rest. Pin, grapple, mud. Elite. Unforgiving frontier. Too few of us. Desperation. Keep pushing. Leader silver hair, blood on my lip. Snarl. What it means to be a soldier, a man. Pater jokes:
She is Beautiful. Hair midnight. Secret welcomed. Sweet, short. Tent. Moonlight. Cold, so short, so short. Sudden. Rushing shapes, horde, black. black on black in trees. Quick. Violation. Pinned, I watch- - am. Cruel tears. See my truth. Carried back. Lover corpse. Reaching. Empty. Shaman, darkness. Long darkness. Child. Grows. Growing. Sudden air, free. Run! Run! Breathe! Cliff. Fall to the bottom. No pater. No pater. Broken. Carried back. Damaged. Ejected. Shaman smiles:
Dull dawn. Mists. Old ways. Shaman’s hut. Mystery of woman who walks as a man. Lessons, lessons. Impart. Become. I see the darkness, don’t resist. Become. I become. Change. Walk like the wolf. Feel it. Power. Life and death. Reverence worn like armor, coat. Rising, rising. Shaman hands, shaking, shaking. Rattle, flaring light. Dedication. I smile:
- - -
Nemea was born in a Romano/Briton village on the frontier of a collapsing empire. She died as a spiritual leader and devotee to the barbarian goddess Frigga.
Count the changes, see the truth.
Labels: Earl S. Wynn