Hunting Season Poem by Maria Pilar Conn

You stood in the circle of light
Cast by the fire
Cast like iron
Cast by flame

Hard sharp edges
The clearing smelled of the rosemary
You had placed over the fire
Like a death offering
While the animal lay at your side
He cleaned the rifle silently

You sang to it sometimes
Explaining how the soul would rise sweeter.
The meat would taste less like blood
So much death surrounded us
Even the birds quivered in their nests.

I was happy waiting by the fire
I didn´t understand you were in pain
Happy to be with you, helping, singing
He gave me a little knife, taught me how to skin
Look, I said, showing you my bloodied hands
Your tears mixed with the smoke