[The night was animal]

The night was animal, was owlmaw
& preyclaw. Half-wild, I shrank
from its grasping, the moon scything
through fir limbs. Half-tame, I
heard the scuttle of blood—

                              Crackbone, I
followed your footsteps.

I followed your footsteps, I opened the night-box,
I scalped the meatbeasts, I bewildered my body
with hair & claw —
                              humping the sacrifice
through the chambers of night

& still the forest continues, the linespeed
never slows. I am up to my ankles,
hand cramping on the knife,—

                              Where is death?

Where does death enter our lives?

Death is a house inside the forest.
Come. I am made of many doors.

Copyright © 2009 Claire Hero All rights reserved
from Sing, Mongrel
Noemi Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission