WEREWOLVES IN DEEP NIGHT
“He who wears a bad coat needs only put it off.”
— Françoise La Hille, 18th Century southern French peasant woman, as complaint (1785–1787) against her neighbor who, she claimed, dressed in skins at night, posing as a werewolf, killing and threatening her cattle. (from Jasmin’s Witch by Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie)
In the dream world,
sweet fennel to fend off
witches’ sorghum,
but how to fight
black sorcerer’s
fabricated charge, bribed
by jealous lover’s spite?
Hailed crops,
litters lost,
children stillborn,
arms turned cold
by a stranger’s touch —
who to blame but
mandragore, poisoners,
werewolves, witches?
If only it were so easy —
to cast off a bad coat,
with it all aspersions,
aggressions, rude failings
wished to be
made right;
cattle could then thrive again,
all live lacking fear of
transgressions, agèd spite;
a clean wind would begin
sweeping our plain.
PRAIRIE SUNSET
Past peak,
a pinkish
gold glow
lingers across
western expanse
of sky —
then slowly
are spread
darker reds,
soft pinks,
clear yellows;
like fluids
in a wound,
congealing
POEM ON A MORNING WITH JAM
(for Caroline)
I am reading poems
in a Yeats book
while chewing a
crusty French loaf
plastered with Spring grass
Normandy butter and
strawberry jam . . .
and as I feel
pages grown sticky,
I pause,
not knowing if
I am on a green lawn
sloping to lapping water
and a hare’s bone,
or am lunching on
a shady French porch . . .
or am here, in my chair,
momentarily and
blissfully unaware.
Supporting cast:
“The Collar Bone of a Hare” by William Butler Yeats
Pain de Campagne, Babette’s Patisserie, Longmont, Colorado
Isigny Ste Mère Normandy Grass-Fed Spring Butter &
Bonne Maman Strawberry Preserves, products of France
THE WEDDING
A woman throws herself into a stream,
this stream throws itself into a river;
a man throws himself into the river,
this river throws itself into the sea,
and the sea throws up a foamy pipe
onto the strand —
the white lace of the spreading wave
that shines beneath the moon
is a bride’s gown,
gifted by the tide.