Injury requires solitude
for the blood to slow.
Cold water soothes the throb
and so he walks the river bed.
His belly is empty as the sky
but turns over sickly,
his body's shock at violation.
Up, through the grasses, silently.
He will stay here, concealed
on his side, panting.
Licking the wound, resting
he will either heal or not--live or not--
the same as any other day he has known.
_________
for Sunday Muse #166.
"live or not .... heal or not" Sometimes it doesn't seem much different in our hospitals!
ReplyDelete"His belly is as empty as the sky" that is a deep and amazing line my friend! You have so eloquently given us a view into what they truly face in life! A powerful and lovely poem Shay!!
ReplyDeleteThe music is a perfect backdrop to the feelings it conveys.
DeleteGAH!!!!!!!! This is his story EXACTLY. You, as always, totally NAIL it. This poem makes me remember Takaya's story - loved by Vancouver Island for seven years, till loneliness took him into the city. My heart sank then, for I knew the ending would be soon and it was.
ReplyDeleteAt first I thought the title was "El Lobo Hairdo" and I was ready to hold onto my hat, LOL! But this was cool to the belly and the touch too. Yes, everyday we get to ask the same questions, whether we choose to do so or no...
ReplyDeleteA tale which captures the mystery of life-and death...
ReplyDeleteThe fewer the words, the greater their impact, as all great writers know. :-)
This is heartbreaking and turns my stomach. Poor thing. But how true the last two lines.
ReplyDeleteWe have two outside cats who insist on being forest animals. Snake bites, broken leg, punctured eye. I am amazed at their ability to keep getting back up, brokenness in tow, coming to the porch for more scratches and food.
These are my favorite lines:
“Injury requires solitude
for the blood to slow.
Cold water soothes the throb”
“his body's shock at violation.”
I also like reading this as a metaphor for prison life. It could also be a way to tell a story of child abuse without revealing too much.
You express the wild experience exactly. Those who mourn the loss of such a one... to disease, to predator, to the elements... fail to understand the wild.
ReplyDeleteTo live or not...
ReplyDeleteLiving is being at risk all the time.
This is painfully true and I fear his journey has been a difficult one.
ReplyDeleteSparse and simple as a severe artery, it is what it is and as for everything wild, perhaps for everything alive, nothing can be known of the when or why it happens, or if it will be the last time. So much said here in so few words. A no-frills poem that reminds me you have been reading Hemingway. Fine writing, Shay.
ReplyDeleteYou made me feel his pain / hurt, his way of healing / soothing it. Beautifully penned, Shay.
ReplyDeleteYour wounded wolf conveys a harsh reality - the last line is particularly powerful.
ReplyDeleteWith such clarity the expression of daily fight to survive, no matter what else is going on. I pray el lobo herido stays hidden and safe until healed <3
ReplyDeletethe harsh reality of the wild, well said, enjoyed the read
ReplyDeleteI love the last, so-good-it-stands-alone line the best. It sums up the life of a wolf in a simple way. Eveery day, it's life or death in an unproclaimed way. No headlines: A Wolf Died! Just dying... or not. And if not, perhaps tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteOh this fits the image perfectly. It could be a wolf or it could be me.
ReplyDeleteThis could hold true for almost anyone. Well done, Shay!
ReplyDeletelast Monday I hiked a hill near home and encountered a pair of coyotes searching for something. later in the hike, one stood higher on a ridge, calling and yipping and howling (which I was able to record). I hoped s/he was protecting their kits from we 2-legged predators.
ReplyDeleteyou are so good at making us see what you pen ~