A Tale for Brian
The Wolf and the Huntsman
"at first it
was very fine-
the sun in the trees, the insects
no interests in the flowers
of course- i was off. perhaps
the woods would split gradually,
become a meadow, then a stream-
perhaps there would
be time for swimming- it was
but the shadows came(and the usually will- it
is after the fact when we have come to much more
courage when we shall learn this)and they
were more than
from the loud starlings."
this is what he says now when he speaks of it-
sometimes he would rather not. the reasonableness
of even venturing towards the forest has long
and of course
the first one
he would meet is the wolf. he says
"you always see your darker
half first- if not then what would
stand comparing? the light is blind
looking upon light, yet upon darkness
it is unambiguous-"
and the wolf came smoking cigarettes, turning to stone. maybe he
wore a tie to work, no one
would know. what, after the lupine business of knowing the forest,
the wolf believed is essentially unimportant.
"and then the necessary followed. you become seduced. you become wise. the hunter
breaks through the underbrush, brandishing his faithful axe, his lolling hound, and the
coughing demon sprints back into the blue wood.
perhaps i had something to deliver.
it has been some time. the hunter told
me the way back, his eyes the color of hyacinths, the
same as the wolf's, the same as the sky, when the sun
thought about sleeping and i had passed
that fragile demarcation between being myth and allusion."
now he is himself,
and he puts on his
shirt and he decides
to start for work.