St Lucie’s Day
Wrung like a cheese,
a day for the choice of the tallest,
the wisest, the one most foolish,
the one with a limp, the one who casts
runes, the one with the no-coloured eye.
One of them.
Him we will beat ,with hammer and anvil,
into the likeness of kings.
We shall crown him with green holly
till blood runs in his beard,
and him we shall dress in the plumes
of the crow, of the tern, of the wren;
we shall stitch him with quills. He will fly into flames.
O this dark St Lucie’s day. You’d wish
you were the Fool of the World . You’d wish
for his flying ship, you’d wish you could fly
to the cities, to the edges of things, to the sea.
You’d wish for a flicker of flame in the spruce.
You’d wish for a crossroads, for three wishes
to foil the old witch and her hen’s-leg house.
Old witch of layers, old doll of a year
and December her small heart.
(From Advice to a traveller. Indigo Dreams 2018)
[ps. I’ll happily sell you a copy . It’s only a PayPal click away via My Books ….. in the Menu at the top of the page}