Shapeshifting with Louise Erdrich
Louise, I searched for you in shadows,
behind brass edges of a jacklight’s collar
flickering beacons of burning oil
stripped your apprehension, lured you—
a
breathing doe—into familiar clearings,
make you pause on frozen fields,
consider existence as my spiritual wife.
Selfish desire transformed my essence
into a pining vegan windigo destined
to come for
you and haunt your
compassionate impulse, piercing
that “breastplate
of clawed, roped bark,”
shielding your soul from sexual longing,
keeping my transcendent love medicine at bay.
Smoke masqueraded as change on the horizon,
defined roles blurred into various
reversals;
I, an urban hunter, once embraced misery
compelled to wander, cursed to pursue
thoughts you birthed inside my being.
Actions advised, decisions nurtured, you
blessed me with freewheeling courage
to hop freight trains in a runaway romance
bound to derail within hours or days whence
I’d acquaint myself with your familiar loneliness
as mysteries connecting solitary spiritual
bodies
ceased to touch our union’s corporal
relativity.
No longer a pillaging Fleur, Louise,
since shedding my icy coat, rising up a wakinyan,
you feed on my thunder, press your white
buffalo
moccasins in snow freshly fallen—lifelines
I follow
never questioning your mystic tracks.
Now, we raise our heads, smell the breeze,
hoping to capture lingering fragrance
of sour
barley, sage incense, and patchouli oil—
earth mother’s tracings we’ll carry with
us,
give face to the invisible, recall in a
heartbeat
on mornings we wake in separate beds.
Always together—apart, unphased by
distance, we
endlessly bewitch each other like antelope messengers.
Wood
Winds
Magic flutes resuscitated dead air as they
began to play; spellbound we listened as
flat
& sharp notes mingled, pierced the air
shook skies louder than Thor’s hammer,
Mjölnir, thunder
clouds clashing,
rumbling, rumbling, rumbling;
a cacophonous
coral chimed in as nature’s
percussion session
continued & voices
harmonized like a
morning star choir
snapping fingers,
tapping feet, balancing
on lofty
pin-heads, joyfully singing & humming…
spiritually immersed in enchantment’s phrase;
like unforgettable ear worms, wavering
flute tunes
struck hearts
young and old, male and female, day
& night on creativity’s anvil—inspiration’s sculpture—
tempo goddesses
look to Euterpe, melody’s muse,
removed from nod
at counterparts perpetually engaged
transforming mythic music through space & time:
Inked
Opus
Glenda’s dragon tattoo stretched
from petite feminine shoulders to her
ample bubble butt, and came alive
after showering—its curved scales
twisting about her waist, then resting
like Fafnir’s tail wrapped around a
treasure trove.
Before soft shadows draped over
Glenda’s shoulders like a blue-black cape,
she’d sun her naked supple flesh, absorb
welcomed warmth and deflect harsh rays
her serpentine torso ever alive, eager,
prepared to flaunt excess. Proudly. Often.
Between sweltering days and dew crested
nights,
Glenda inked untouched arms and legs,
waited
for throngs of admirers to express approval
fawn over numerous tats, piercings, painted
nails,
gratified to dream about her body art
courage
secretly longing to be clothed in Glenda’s
skin.
Autumn Nuts
Crunchy acorns litter park walkways
where tourists
& locals stamp their feet
doing the Golden Gate soft-shoe
imitating Mr.
Bojangles, imagining
Shirley Temple matching taps & steps
without a hitch,
moving down lanes
harbouring oak tree fruit that dances
in the wind,
drops off curled branches
rolls down cobblestone footpaths,
collects on
grassy knolls & corrals in curbs,
feet unintentionally husking kernels
delighting blue
jays & grey squirrels.
Daze &
Nights
Deirdre spent her
weekends
strolling harbour
city shades
long before years
allowed entrance
into taverns where
salt water sailors
convened to drink,
swear & fight.
Puckering like
Angelina Jolie
purring like a
Siamese cat
Deirdre painted
her lips
with Kanka Mouth
Pain liquid
aestheticized
middle school boys
with French
kisses, a skill she
practiced &
perfected at sleepovers
exploring tactile
possibilities
with girlfriends
who buried
their faces in
feather pillows
& rehearsed
tongues twisting
techniques…soft
& inviting
numbing minds
& maws
lifting spirits,
fulfilling voids,
expressing
fleeting passion
without
restriction as focused
as a full powered
claw machine
clasping a stuffed
animal.
While boats rocked
in their mooring
Deirdre’s waterfront
presence blossomed
pushed shadows
aside, remained
the heartbeat of a
marina where people
old and young
yearned to be felt.
Sterling Warner - is an award-winning author, poet, and former Evergreen Valley College English Professor, Sterling Warner’s works have appeared in many literary magazines, journals, and anthologies including Danse Macabre, Trouvaille Review, Lothlórien Poetry Journal, Ekphrastic Review, and Sparks of Calliope. Warner’s collections of poetry include Rags and Feathers, Without Wheels, ShadowCat, Edges, Memento Mori: A Chapbook Redux, Serpent’s Tooth, Flytraps, and Cracks of Light: Pandemic Poems 2019-2022 (2022)—as well as Masques: Flash Fiction & Short Stories. Presently, Warner writes, hosts/participates in “virtual” poetry readings, turns wood, and enjoys retirement in Washington.
Sterling Warner’s Author Website
https://www.amazon.com/author/amazon.com_sterling.warner
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