He watched me
house to barn barn to house
egg basket in right hand
milk pail in the left
and that day a new lawn dress
its full white yardage wrapping my skin.
Afternoon light hardened those eyes
the cobbles stum b led up to meet me
a hunting knife thrust in my heart
that long terrified cry
farm hands running running
a raven he told them I have killed a raven.
They stared at the sprigged dress
the white face the stain that reddened
yes yes of course
a raven they nodded.
Spades grated against flints
they took white hands
they took buttoned boots
they laid them in the ground.
Earth pressed but the heart frothed
burst everything once warm into the loam
sapling roots wound fingerbones
hollow but very white
sap hardened into sinew skin feathers.
Soil shaken away
I rose into moonlight
a black clot against the sunrise
and in the blackthorn blossom
his dark eyes still warm
tight pinched
in the apex of my beak.