Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Goats

by John Swain

After the goats
wandered the forest
in the moon pooled
all luminous
on the sick girl.
I scraped her neck
with a dog fang
and dusted her face
with clay powder.
Then her spirit
turned
like a cure
and I drove a peg
into the ground.
She only came back
to go away.

2 comments:

  1. Another great read from John Swain!

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  2. I like this poem very much, not simply for the technique, which is very good, but for the meaning which I don't fully understand--that is, the poet's meaning, which is often different from the meaning that a reader will impose on a poem. I've read it twice, loved the language, and maybe I will read it again some night when the moon is full and that wolf is howling in the back of my mind again. He, too, comes "back/to go away" and in that respect I'm very lucky.

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