She was both the seeker and the sought.
Caught between her village obligations
and the wilder places she had forgotten.
Married (unhappily) to a man made of metal,
his heart had long ago turned as pale
as a potato boiling in the kettle.
Now, many years later—
she hears the hooves
crunching the virgin snow.
She puts down her knitting,
looks out the window
and sees the satyr.
In the blue light of the moon
the frost on his flanks is as bright
as a polished mirror,
causing her majesty to swoon
high above the murky waters
of the moat.
The lady’s dilemma is timeless:
Stay with the man of metal,
or run away with the half-man/half-goat?
Visit Daniel at http://about.me/dklawitter.
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