Can't you see can't you see the red
Back and forth I go back and forth
on the path between the trees
on the path through the woods
can't you see can't you read the red?
every day I get older every day
white flashes briefly in my dark red fur
axes stay dull baskets swing
back and forth back and forth
and I wait I wonder where you might be.
Can't you see can't you read the red?
Every day I pace out the same path I
wear out a groove waiting and looking
you should have been here by now
shouldn't you have been here by now?
I have stopped feeling, like clockwork
I go back and I go forth.
Off the path alone is just another path
and I have stopped feeling
heat fur where are you
off the path alone
my heart does not race
my pace is calm, cool, she curves we giggle
I want — heart race fire break
even this I want
in red in blood
in bone in tears
the path alone is boring
Who's afraid I'm afraid of
never meeting you again
now I have grown my own teeth
when will we meet again
now I have grown my own claws
Will we meet again
now I have grown my own arms
big enough, all the better to pounce
all the better, my dear.
We must meet again.
I am waiting for you
and now I am older.
About the Author:
Veronica Schanoes, winner of the William Carlos Williams Prize from the Academy of American Poets, is a writer and scholar with a particular interest in myths and fairy tales. Her poems and short stories have appeared in previous issues of the Journal of Mythic Arts, as well as in anthologies and magazines including Interfictions, Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet, Trunk Stories, and Jabberwocky.
Copyright © 2008 by Veronica Schanoes. This poem may not be reproduced in any form without the author's express written permission.