The Hunt

On the solstice
of summer
In the light of a full moon
I tried to linger, standing
In the shadow of an aspen
So the moon could not see
I called to my
Savage blood, to the
Siren inside
Trying to stir the parts of me
That came before
All I could see was you,
Walking a circle around me
I stood as the earth
You were the moon
Around us the fire’s light carved
Shadow into a ball held
In your outstretched hand
That night six screech owls landed on the roof
Calling out,
They hunted while we watched
The owls have not returned,
But robins nest in the maple
On the solstice of summer
They guarded the nest
As I stood
Ragged earth hiding
From the light of the moon

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About Anna Paige

Anna Paige is a writer, poet, and photographer advocating for live music culture, visual and performance arts, and the creative class in Montana through writing. More >>