The Deer

Covered in my stag bones

Clipped and rough against my skin

I have been running

From the deep murmur of the river

That follows me through the trees

Sometimes whistling in the reeds

Or singing around my horns.

My breath is short.

My bones weary.

Though I return to find the source of the river,

To bathe once again

In its silver current,

Before the quick branches grew

Around my vision.

I feel Artemis in my lungs

Her dogs close to my heels.

Dare I stop to sip the cool stream?

My arrow and bow still uncoupled,

My thirst like reddened rain

On an aging alder

Unable to hold the drops on its bark.

Dare I turn and face her beauty with my horns?

Not in anger for she will hold them

And pierce me with her hounds,

Nor in peace for their yelps

Have made my horns heavy.

Of leaden Yew is my arrow

Pointed to Saturn in the breath of the sun,

My bow is made from the grain of my marrow

And the essence of silver-fir leaves.

Remember Artemis when I was your stag?

You would mount my strong oak

Singing with passion your old riddle-rag

That guided me along the forest track.

Barley, corn, and wheat did sprout

Where my joy spilled onto the soil,

Over the reeds the deathly cries of our spoil

Rose to meet our ecstatic clout.

With every cry that burst

From the tip of my arrow

The deeper my bones were cursed

to grow without their marrow.

Each deathly moan became your song

while riding callously on my skin,

Your words infested in my lung

Were those within your serpents grin.

Then it seemed suddenly you saw my bones

Had grown dead hazel leaves,

So, with failing wisdom in my moans,

You chased me to the river's heaves.

Dare I stop to cut a song

From the sad looking willow?

The hounds sharp bark falls over me

Like a spiralling April shower

And my legs begin to slow.

The murmuring of her enchanting song

Has brought movement to my bow.

I gape as it writhes and curls

Around my arm and upward to my bone.

In terror I recoil for its eyes are pearls

And its teeth shine bitter with hebanon.

So, I lie down in the river's sweet bed

Hoping she will ride me once more,

Yet the teeth of her hounds

Bite through to my marrow

And splay me over the forbidden shore.