Shownotes
One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.
The Return of Titans
Kate M. Sine
The last leaf of autumn falls,
striking the door like a match,
lighting our world with the magic from a distant universe.
We watch the spirits pass us by at the window,
our breath fogging the glass as the archaic creatures
pad past,
shepherding their kind to safety while the world sleeps
through December, January, and February.
Karan, the goose, who slides through the air like a knife,
blotting out the sky with a quilt of murmuration of different birds
as they migrate to warmer winds.
Tubor, the bear, who buries beetles, boil-skinned frogs, and his brethren,
ushering them to sleep.
Psyche, the wolf, who suns in the graveyards,
her golden eyes roll sleepily like the sun across the horizon as she watches the herds and flocks pass by.
She and her kin practice mercy on these long nights,
giving them a dignified death with their teeth instead of a demise in the shadow of their families.
My favorite is Elpenor, the elk.
The world heralds his return,
the air filling with thunder as he uproots from his dimension to ours.
His antlers rise over the withered woods like a crown,
grazing the sky as he strides out into the open,
with deer, quail, foxes, and other creatures in tow.
The men scold the giant deer for taking not only the wildlife away,
but women too.
A symbol of the balance between fragility and strength,
woeful women have asked Elpenor to take them on his odyssey by shearing off their hair until they are left with downy heads,
like that of fawns.
Elpenor whisks them away, taking them to cities, to towns,
wherever happiness finds them.
It was only this year that I learned that the lord gives his does, as they are called,
a knife, hewn from an antler shed of his children.
I saw it one day on my mother’s belt,
and now,
I have found a mystery
where I used to be whole,
a magic that I now possess.
More from Kate M. Sine ↓
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