Naked supplicants of Lascaux
Bloodied by the maze
Moon-called
In void terror
Would stand in the resonant emptiness of the cave
And fill themselves with ochre and charcoal prayers
Of bison, aurochs, wooly pony
Would whisper toward a memory
Would weep at the rending

Animals in their wakeful dreams
Dreams that are the prayers of men
Hear the whispers
Know of the rending
Envision man’s return

Boy in Alabama
Bloodied by dawn scrub
In forced ritual
His talismanic rifle broken at the breech
Stood in the anodyne mist of the clearing
In Easter light
And filled himself with the fawn’s mottling
Became the doe’s terror
Saw all his life’s names in the laughing men
But whispered to her anyway, to the doe
I won’t
No, I won’t
And wept at the rending

Animals in their wakeful dreams
Dreams that are the prayers of men
Hear the whispers
Know of the rending
Envision man’s return

This poem, in an altered form, was originally published in country CONNECTIONS in 1996.

The image is from The Cave of Lascaux.

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