2
There was no secret to the Ravens
No telepathy required, no spells,
They hung about, chased mice and
chicks
And answered questions with
precision.
From them she learned the order
of the farm,
Its boundaries, quantities, and
where to grow
What was required for now and
later.
And so things stayed the same,
And prospered even as the summer
grew,
But no brothers sat in kitchen of
an eve
And meals were taken without joy.
She took to inviting neighbours
in,
But all thought that she should
marry soon
And give the farming over to a
man.
The women better were, still
talked of herbs,
Or quaint corners where other
worlds slid by,
Dropped many secrets ,saw the
work she’d done,
And gave silent warm respect,
Murmured warnings of other doors,
And deals that should not be made
For lost one’s lives.
Were disapproving of her flashing
eyes
When such hints were raised.
Once she thought she’s seen him
Standing on the valley’s rim,
Leaning on spear
Looking down and in,
Ran breathless, cloak a-billow
with Ravens flapping, bobbing
round her head
and Jess the sheepdog and puppies
round her feet
approximating Wolf but no real
substitute
but when she got there,
it was not him, just some pedlar,
who made the cross at her wild
expectations
and backed away at speed,
muttering, in high german,
By all the saints, A fury.
She caught a glimpse
Reflected in a puddle by the path
Of her demeanour,
Bird haloed,dog-packed in
protection
And recognised her eyes alone.
There was no peaceful quaker
child,
Here was careworn desperation,
All energy on the valley,
Keeping other’s safe ,
And who cares for the carers
Came the thought.
And where was Wolf.?
Threw back head, hair loosed its
bounds,
Cloak hood failed in function
And she howled skywards as a dog.
Ravens cawing called in rooks
And Jess’s pack howled along,
She ran as whirlwind
Past the oak and thorns
Past hayricks ,through lines of
maize,
Her own wild hunt, and brought
with her,
Unsurprisingly to some,
Great sheets of cloud, then heavy
rain.
Inside, as rain’s huge gobbets
bulleted the house
All gulped hot soup from wooden
bowls,
In feral hunger, no distinction
made
Between witch-queen and her
beasts,
No manners, or ordering of the
pack
As all slept in piles before the
fire,
Dogs and wildchild,
Offering each other the dumb
warmth
And mannerless comfort,
So needed by bereaved.
Green Valleys defenses were now
so strong
That language could not get into
the land,
All is strength, immediate
reaction,
And inside the quaker child still
burned,
Desperate for the poorly to visit
and be healed,
But they saw the valley in a
different light,
Owned by half child half witch,
and pack of dogs,
And dared not enter, though in
great need.
A bear they said, with Ivy in its
pelt,
Prowled the woods and devoured
all.
In abandonment she cast new runes
And waited while the seasons
turned,
Still feeling hints of the old
life she craved,
Whenever the new moon waxed.
But,wild as she was, and
woebegone,
The farm still grew and promised
life,
She barely saw this, though sun
shone,
Would Greenman still came to
claim his wife ?
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