Where Wild Things

April 11, 2010

You have gone too far
into the darkness; there is
no word for it. You have
given up your name, what made
you human. You live now
at the crossroads
’entre chien et loup’;
we who love you
can no longer reel you in.

What you were
circles in its own self-referring
echoes, a distant shout
on the drizzling wind
which swam through
these leaves an hour ago
or a lifetime.

In memoriam, then,
I shape these words,
put fingers to the nouns
that you might still inhabit:
tree, rock, river, heron, wolf.

Roselle Angwin

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