2 Pieces

JANIE MILLER

She bound wild in a fragile basket lovely eggs

the famous wolf
we traveled for a glimpse

though her breath made ghosts
and legends we won't renege

she bound her wild in a fragile basket lovely eggs

holy holy land of the hunt
holy holy powder keg

she rolled in fur of the dead
pushed death in--a recompense

binding her to the wild in a fragile basket such lovely eggs

the famous wolf
we traveled for a glimpse

Whatever circles our air tonight
moves in sorrow.

Mouth in the clouds, a primordial
silence reaches through,

the cry that wakes up wars, mothers
and land fissures

that open so closely to the planet's core
you can breathe

its heart which drags grief
against her will.

The horse has grazed on clover
this whole day

and wants rest
in this wheeling field

of hawk and straw, tired wisdoms
of reason,

so feed its depths without crisis
and let it home