Some wore armor,
those freshbread women
with plums for eyes.
The River God said,
a lot of good it will do you,
then sank down
into a water lily dream.
One went to him
holding a blade made of summer.
Some say he married her
but she never came back to say.
Some wore bracelets
made of fall leaves and owl call
with sorrows lined together like dolls.
The River God said,
one is wise, five are deceitful
and none can sing, or love.
Then the water iced over until spring.
The women went to the silent edge
bearing a robe made of crows and rushes
but when he didn't appear, then or at any other time,
they gave the robe to the morning.
Some wore armor,
but most wore willows.
They were freshbread women
with plums for eyes.
_____
The atmosphere here is chilling but yet full of the magic of ritual and the warmth of hidden desire. Your descriptions are brilliant, vivid and tender, and the mystery at the core is the deepest mystery, love. Just breathtaking writing, Shay. I especially love the second stanza, the blade and bracelets, the robe given to the morning, and the remote inhuman sense of myth that speaks so wryly of human endeavor. Brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThis is so good. Wow. The language takes us to the river god, then under the water and back. The blade of summer, the robe of crows ad rushes given to the morning. Then that last stanza adding “some wore willows” which gives it so much depth and ambiguity. Beautiful.
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