Tag: odin

What does she want but to charm
the swallows and make the trees dance,
Almost Orpheus, but a woman
with an instrument,
not from heaven, but Hades.

A sacrifice is needed.
Take them. An ovary and an eye, she whispers,
Let me hang beneath the banyan tree
Almost Odin, but a woman,
I am used to hanging
I am used to bleeding, she says.

But first suspend her from that leafless tree, 
With grandfather’s beard draped upon 
Its branches, like chain mail of fallen soldiers
Where currawongs perch, crow-like but flightless
Dismember me, she says.
I am used to it.
In time, I will reassemble.