are you the Salmon in the pool at the headwaters?
nine trees of crimson hazel?
are you the Raven on the shoulder of the fallen warrior?
to be avenged before the sunset?
is é sin an fáth troid liom
the ships that sailed in the darkest of dreams
you could walk across on their backs
bare feet upon the pavement, soft lightning in sheets across the bed of the sky
how will we wake from the nightmare of his-story?
but something to tell
na dteangacha na bhfear agus na haingil
is é sin an fáth troid linn
maithiúnas a thabhairt do, as béarla
if the smell of Ponderosa & Sage is all that feels like home
and the rage of ages makes a nest in my heart
to forget again the story told,
i know the sound of Raven’s voice
is it you who sent us packing?
meat beneath the skins
the blood on the butcher’s apron
is either mine or yours
as if we could never be skinless animals ourselves