KEEPER


You took my walking in the woods
The summer that my sister left.
Rain had placed a mute upon the earth,
Robbed the sharpest beaks of birds.
We roamed around new mushrooms,
Letting timid quail run by,
And filled our eyes with greenery,
Until we reached the beetles' work:
Barkless skeletons against a copen sky.

You postured for a target
String to check,
Shot and sank your helixed arrows
Feather-deep,
Repented reflexes.
Recanted impulses,
Retrieved your spiraled metals
One by one.

I walked behind,
Earth's patient daughter
Given up on counting coups,
Trusting a keeper of primitive weapons.
You never had to say:
Look how the green dances, woman.

Copyright 2001 by Janice Hale-Hobby