Archive for May 6th, 2018

Sunday, 6 May 2018

Another Easter by Hayden Saunier

The bones of the buck lie where he lay
by the creek last fall, wounded, licking water.
Small mound of carcass in the meadow’s sweep
sunken, smaller now, undistinguishable

from the wrack of winter wheat.
No flag left, spine bare, stiff fringe across the ribs,
his strong legs stripped and milk-pod pale.
Seeds of his last meal deep in rot.

And so it is with our grief.
Extended exhalations, slow dissolves,
the stubborn skull protecting memory,
like last meat, in a bony cave.

And something rooting down
inside, ready to rise.


Date: 2009

By: Hayden Saunier (19??- )