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The Wintering
| Dark Poetry #1 |
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The Wintering |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas 
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The Wintering I was young, a scarce five winters, when I lost my life and began my death. I still see my father, standing proud, strong and hale. He smiles at me, granting a conspiratorial wink. I remember the battle cry echoing throughout the forest deep. "Crux mihi grata quiess!!" resounding, returned. Thunder roared and down they rode, black as death upon wild beasts, drumming, trampling down the village watch. Those of us who dared to arm faced the penalty of their sin: not death, but a crippling blow. I bore witness, by my mother's side, of our judgement from above. I felt the air throbbing, ringing to the drums outside the ring: Doom Doom Doom Doom slow but steady, ominously striking as horsemen withdrew to higher ground. I saw the wolves. I saw wolves. Screams mingled with the drumming as the wolves were sent to feed. My mother snatched me off the floor and holding me, ran out the back, running for safety, running, running, falling, crushing me into the cold, white snow, feeling my mother above me, hearing her scream. I hear screams drums wolves. I feel my mother shifting, moving. The snow turns pink. I hear the sound of gnashing, rending, babies screaming, silenced by snapping. Laughter. I hear the laughter, I hear the crackling, I smell something burning. My mother's touch is no longer warm. Trapped, I dig my way free with numb fingers. I see the pale sun shimmering, hiding behind black clouds boiling, rolling into the sky. The wolves and horsemen have vanished. I look at my mother and stumble, stifling the scream in my throat. I don't want them to return for me. Slowly, I walk to what was once my village, my home. Amid the ruins of our hut I see a shawl. A baby's shawl. My brother's shawl. Crimson and steaming on the earthen floor, the last thing I see, drums echoing in my heart, my mind. That day I lost my life, watched it bleed and burn to the earth from which it sprang. I left that day, taking only what I could carry, the shawl tucked in my belt, leaning on my father's spear, his sword and shield upon my back, slowly walking south into the lonesome wood. But that was three and twenty years ago, letting the drifting snow bury my dead. Now I ride, father's shield on arm, sword at side, spear in hand. The head and pelt of timber wolf I wear over hauberk, dearly bought, watching as the wolves descend upon the crippled warriors mothers babes watching remembering laughing... Alicat [This message has been edited by Alicat (edited 08-16-99).] |
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| © Copyright 1999 Alastair Adamson - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
Very, very intense, Alicat - You're gonna love this Forum.....  |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
A deep and beautiful piece, Alicat. Nicely done. Michael |
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Alwye
Moderator
Member Elite
since 1999-06-16
Posts 3850In the space between moments |
Deeply intense...excellent!! ------------------ *Krista Knutson* "If I could be an angel, I'd make your every wish come true. But I am only human, just a woman lovin' you..." Trisha Yearwood |
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poetFemmeFatale Member Elite
since 1999-07-25
Posts 2646Arkansas |
Wow is all I can say - much of what you write is so moving & powerful!! I almost didn't read it because I usually don't like that much blood & gore, but I'm glad I stuck it out!!!  ------------------ - poet FemmeFatale "The strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone..." Henrik Ibsen (1826-1906) Norwegian dramatist lyric poet |
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Majere Junior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 32 |
Fabulous! Deeply moving. ------------------ Such is the way to immortality ;) |
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Munda Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544The Hague, The Netherlands |
Sorry guys....Alicat challenged me ! It's a Pub thing, but you're all very welcome to join us for a drink ! And ya gotto admit....tis good poetry ! 66! |
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