NaPM April 19, 2017

[RiverNotch]

Girl


Man.
Don't let the sea get to you, son --
no country lies on the other side
of the horizon. The sun
hangs in the air --

Boy.
She breathes. She has legs. Her skin is smooth.

Man.
Someday, like your father, you'll settle down,
you'll fall into a role. People will follow you,
you will follow the gods. You'll find a house,
perhaps found a city. The call will reach you and you will ride
to the palace where her father will say Choose your weapon!
and the boar will run and the brass will sound
and you'll deal the first wound and wipe away the blood
and take her by the hand and say I've won! fate has chosen.

You and your wife will have many children.

Boy.
Her eyes are open, a color I've never seen:
blue like the sky, like the sea.
No, she is not like any one I've ever seen.

Man.
You and your wife will have many children.
Some of them will drown in the womb, their faces calm and blue.
Others will grow to breathe, to cry, to speak,
only to die of fever, of first wounds.

Boy.
Canvas, rope, nails.
Bits of wood, from splinter to beam.
She was on a ship, and it sank.

Man.
Her ship came from the east, where neighbors lie.
We have no neighbors to the west. We have no neighbors to the south.
And to the north, there is only land.

It was the storm that took her ship, the clouds we saw
gather last evening in the horizon. We have no neighbors to the south:
the gods are cruel, and cannot be called neighborly.

Boy.
She lies awake. She is very beautiful.
I wonder if she can understand us.

Man.
There is the splinter, which in the summer
turns black with rot. Then there is the mosquito's kiss,
silent herald of many deaths. 
Forget the snake, the boar, the rabid dog --

those are things I can protect you from.

Girl


Man.
Don't let the sea get to you, son --
no country lies on the other side
of the horizon. The sun
hangs in the air --

Boy.
She breathes. She has legs. Her skin is smooth.

Man.
Someday, like your father before you, you'll settle down.
You'll fall into a role. People will follow you,
you will follow the gods. You'll find a house,
perhaps found a city. The call will reach you and you will ride
to the castle where her father will say Choose your weapon!
and the boar will run and the brass will sound
and you will deal the first wound and wipe the blood from your face
and take her by the hand and say I have won! fate has chosen.

You and your wife will have many children.

Boy.
Her eyes are opening. They are a color I have never seen:
blue like the sky, like the ocean.
No, she is not like any one I have ever seen.

Man.
You and your wife will have many children.
Some of them will drown in the womb, their faces calm and blue.
Others will grow to breathe, to cry, to speak,
only to die of fever, of first wounds.

Boy.
Canvas, rope, nails.
Bits of wood, from splinter to beam.
She was on a ship, and it sank.

Man.
Her ship came from the east, where neighbors lie.
We have no neighbors to the west. We have no neighbors to the south.
And to the north, there is only land.

It was the storm that took her ship, the storm we saw
gather last evening in the horizon. We have no neighbors to the south:
the storm gods are cruel, and cannot be called neighborly.

Boy.
She is awake. She is very beautiful.
I wonder if she can understand us.

Man.
There is the splinter, which in the summer
turns black with rot. Then there is the mosquito's kiss,
silent herald of many kinds of death. 
Forget the snake, the boar, the rabid dog --

those are things I can protect you from.