Many thanks to Sarah Law at Amethyst Review, who published two new poems of mine last month. (I forgot to post about them at the time.) Enjoy these glimpses of two of the gods from winter & spring in ancient Gaul.
I. Esus with an Axe
As if he were winter itself
Esus goes at the willow tree,
goes to prune it back for a time,
promising a spring without blades.
And as if they were winter itself,
the egrets in the willow tree
consider how the cold must come,
consider where all souls must go,
and surrender the willow to fly.
And as if it were winter itself
the marsh beside the willow tree
cools and freezes and hides beneath ice,
beneath the cracking axe of Esus,
beneath the iron sun, iron clouds,
beside the low willow in winter.
II. Sucellus: The Wine God
Every now and then, why not, give your time
to the drunk old man – the hammer he holds
struck winter out of the earth after all,
and gave us the grapes that got him all groggy,
the barrel overflowing and the jar
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