MA ( / )

She Was My Rich Hilled

She was my rich hilled and side cliffed woman
whose shapes I knew so well,
like the green waves of home.

We had babes together
tucked into wool-lined cots under a safe hedge,
and solstices smiled on us with breaths of wind
on a still night.

And you stole her
As friends sometimes do.

In another time
I would have split you forehead to pelvis
a final deep swing of family heritage
a bitter two-handed sword
graced by our strong, down-armed rising rage,
teeth clenched, hard staring eyes,
and a wild shout of rock splitting triumph,
after you had slipped that thin sparkling grey knife
between my ribs.

But now I am older looking back,
and its true I had lost her specific person earlier
not realizing, loving her in general
with warm intense and a genuine habit
and not a hint, poor man,
from overwork that this was so.

You gave her something,
a new sense of herself
amongst all the pain and confusion;
and when I was split in half
out flew saw-toothed bats grinning from dark caves
leaving centuries of dust and nose-biting dried droppings,
out crawled giant lizards hinged sideways,
on hind legs at the entrance of my heart
beating their chests in rage;
and slowly, a dragon, old and rheumy,
turning his head from side to side
viewed the strange world of light
with mist creeping upward from a slightly opened mouth.

They flew away, all of them,
after a time of many returns,
and when we cleaned up together
(she had returned)
over several years,
there sat a glowing dark cup of blood-agate
on the quiet ground
in the middle of the cave
with crystal stalactites hanging high above
sparkling in an unseen light.

by Melcrum A.J

Other poems of A.J (1)

Comments (3)

taht is a very great thinking of yours. you are really blessed with imagination and true use of words. i really enjoyed very much. please read my poems at i will be very greatful if you comment me \thank u keep it up.
Not sure I understand everything, but I like it.
This is excellent. Beautiful. H.