by Elisabeth Horan Frost might think we have forgotten how it is to mend a wall. Good neighbors we are not. What once was rolling acres of deforested masterpieces, framed by such precise and plaintive cairns – rolled by hand of man or brutish ox to the edges of the gently wooded glens – To keep the sheep so neatly grazing Read More
Tag: elisabeth horan
The Hemlocks Have No Doors
by Elisabeth Horan Something there is that wants to eat me – wants to eat me alive. He is the thing with yellow eyes and I’m never safe for there are no doors, There are no locks on hemlocks. Some get the pleasure of being eaten dead. Never feel his jaws crush their head – There is a thing called Read More
Lament
City elephants never lament. We gave it up when we moved off the savanna. For one thing, city code discourages open-air burials. And everything needs a permit, even public displays of mourning. It makes sense. Can you imagine if we did it the old way? Traffic remains snarled near Columbus Circle while fifteen pachyderms continue their vigil for a herd member who Read More
Elephants Never Let Their Loved Ones Die Alone
by Elisabeth Horan Elephants never let their loved ones Die alone Never let God come first for their tired, Broken bones But protect the soul from jackals, Hyenas Endeavor to prevent the cruel rape of her Ivory for profit Elephants enact their ceremony; Create a circle of love and protection For a friend, a loved one; A child, a mother. Read More