We saw it in the sky – a sign.
Some said of abundance,
promising bounty and a long life.
It galloped towards the horizon
lifting feet too delicate for the
white bulk they carried so swiftly.
We’d seen it before carved into rock
a quiver of crude spears
decorating its hide
and something like it
at the edge of the world
prowling between snow and stars.
Now in clouds, it announces
its own death –
ribbed like a slow ship
or rolling in endless water
For a moment it hung above us
shadowing the land beneath –
and hunger soured the ghost breath
that knuckled down our spines.
Catherine Bateson© from Poems from the End of the World.
Check out the Tuesday Poem blog for other poems from all parts of the world. On the hub, guest editor Andrew Bell brings us 'Bad Housekeeping' by Emma Neale - a delight of a poem! Do read it.