watch the egret pace the backs of cows
in broad daylight stay
until the dark falls like a moth-eaten curtain
stars poking through from the other side see
the nick in the lower crescent of the moon
no bead of blood on my sleeve can explain
salmon swimming upstream for something
final and primal I haven’t told you
about the dead how their stories wander
in spirals grow lighter as they go higher
re-shape the past around fire cast a line
into the waters of your future how things fit
together like some secret guarded
by the crescent waxing gibbous as a great blue
heron swoops low over the creek you see
before the dog can startle a flash
of the crest the broad span of open wings
Rachel Barton: Though I chose Samuel Green’s poem for its powerful imagery and emotional impact, I did not connect directly to the content; I couldn’t draw from the experience of hunting or killing animals as I had none. So I listed the phrases that I found most compelling and began to weave them together until I found a poem of my own.
