You were
fishing for me—
sliding your hand along
my dorsal and tail fins,
my dark olive hair,
my golden throat.
But you forgot
this bow
of sinew, cedar, and bone,
my Apache blood—
huntress, not game—
and this arrow which carries
your name.
© 2025 Jennifer Wagner
Yes Ma'am. Quadrillific!
ReplyDeleteOooh! I love the ending!
ReplyDeleteI like the hint of eroticism in your quadrille, Jennifer, and the way your poem turns on the ‘bow of sinew, cedar, and bone’. A perfect rebuff. Fisher beware.
ReplyDeleteJennifer, I feel totally caught by that final turn—"huntress, not game" hit me like an arrow. Such power in so few lines.
ReplyDeleteMuch love,
David
SkepticsKaddish.com