Dragons in the Gum Tree Grove

The Chase

I dreamed we chased a deer in sage.
We carried wooden javelins,
and, huntress, you were the first to lodge
your weapon in the vital heart.
The kill was yours; the tribe’s folk danced
the antler dance for you.  The dirt
and blood were on your hands.  The hide,
the victor's portion, you brought to me.
“Make me a robe of uncommon sort
with white quill work and beads,” you said.
The tribe was shocked—what could this be,
woman commanding work from man?
I don't know whether they set you free
or killed you.  You woke me up just then.

Next Poem:  Joshua Trees

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Updated last on:  2001/06/03