Friday 10 February 2023

The Hunt

 

Huntress, I

 

I stood on the porch and
Whispered to the wild wind
"May the hunt go well
May you find your quarry.
May your ride be blessed
And leave fortune in its wake."
An eddy swirled about me
A caress, an answer, a nod.
I smiled then, satisfied that
I had been heard and went inside.
The storm continued forward
Rattling the bare bones of trees
Howling its rage
Chasing the unseen.
I, safe and warm in my home,
Half wished I could ride with it
A wild hunter on a ghost horse.