365 Poems in 365 Days: Elf Poems 2
2. The Second Age, Seventeenth Cycle, Year of the Eye
I see her first at midwinter.
My family sends me to guest
At the Orchard of Flowers
To pay our respects at the dark time.
I do my duty. I do not speak to her.
The years dance. I find myself
Warden at the goblin market
Judging disputes between fey and mortal.
A brawl breaks out. I stop it
With a blow from my staff of office.
It is not the approved method.
She sees it and it seems she does approve.
It is the equinox and the year hunt.
She joins our party.
Her family do not keep or kill animals.
They will disapprove of her choice.
We talk briefly and exchange names.
She is the finest archer I have ever seen.
A celestial object arrives in the sky.
She and I join the observers on the peak.
We greet it despite its ill-starred name –
The name it gave on its last appearance
To the mountain and the school beneath our feet.
We talk all night and arrange to meet again.
I bow. She blows me a kiss.
So this has swiftly become a love story. However my conception of immortality is that the elves will follow a profession, live a life, walk a path for a time - years, decades, centuries - then eventually move on and learn something new. Some of this will be heavily ritualised and organised, other things more free-form and improvised. Still, this set of poems are going to be a romance for a while until our protagonist finds something else to do. Poem 99 of 365.
I see her first at midwinter.
My family sends me to guest
At the Orchard of Flowers
To pay our respects at the dark time.
I do my duty. I do not speak to her.
The years dance. I find myself
Warden at the goblin market
Judging disputes between fey and mortal.
A brawl breaks out. I stop it
With a blow from my staff of office.
It is not the approved method.
She sees it and it seems she does approve.
It is the equinox and the year hunt.
She joins our party.
Her family do not keep or kill animals.
They will disapprove of her choice.
We talk briefly and exchange names.
She is the finest archer I have ever seen.
A celestial object arrives in the sky.
She and I join the observers on the peak.
We greet it despite its ill-starred name –
The name it gave on its last appearance
To the mountain and the school beneath our feet.
We talk all night and arrange to meet again.
I bow. She blows me a kiss.
So this has swiftly become a love story. However my conception of immortality is that the elves will follow a profession, live a life, walk a path for a time - years, decades, centuries - then eventually move on and learn something new. Some of this will be heavily ritualised and organised, other things more free-form and improvised. Still, this set of poems are going to be a romance for a while until our protagonist finds something else to do. Poem 99 of 365.
Comments