Issue 10 - Daniel Roy Connelly - Actaeon’s Sister, Pescasseroli, August 2013

Should I be bathing naked

in a sun-streaked pool beneath the pines


bent towards mystery 

amid the joyful bleating of doomed sheep


and should your binoculars

flick past me and back 


to stop suddenly on me

whisps of dust floating around my lineless face


as I rise coyly nibbling on a summer reed

to stand facing you feet wide apart on soft needles


see me as a god who knows

you are watching him dreaming in secret


see me bending now

towards your destruction


furring into a mature stag with ready antlers

gathering my famished hounds


tossing my neck back to rear

on the clean air of Pescasseroli 


as the wind sings you a song

but you’ll think it’s me 


stretching my forelegs across time head down 

to eviscerate your impossibly lissom body

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