Old Mother cooled
at moonrise.

I licked her paws
and her snout, but
her bark didn’t rumble,
she didn’t bare teeth.

I howled in her ear
and whined like a kit,
but she never warmed.

Vixen arrived
with the ice.

I let her sniff and lie—
the home was big.
But when Vixen neared
Old Mother, I barked
from a low crouch and
got ready to pounce.

“Weird,” she said,
backing away from us,
“every skulk has its Weird.”

Old Mother’s kin crept in
with the warm rains.

“Weird,” Vixen barked,
“there’s man by the water.
With loud firestick
and help of fur traitor.
We’ve to run!”

“Home,” I said to Vixen,
glancing at the dead leaves
covering Old Mother’s bones.
“Home, I defend. We fight?”

“For cold bones and dirt?”
Vixen shook her head
and ran off.

After barks and growls
pounded into the home,
I pressed one eye
to a big gap in the door.
A black and white dog
lay unmoving
in Old Mother’s
oaks and weeds;
from muzzled to belly—
whined and trembled
under man’s firestick.

I didn’t think,
just rushed through the gap
and leapt for man’s throat.

While in midair,
fire exploded in
one of my hind paws,
right before I sank teeth
into man’s flesh.

Now, bleeding from a leg stump,
all mangled flesh and broken bone,
I chewed on killer-weeds
and invited Gaia’s last dark.

Light and warmth
awakened my eyes,
shock and mirth
made my body rise,
for a leg of Old Mother’s oak
had been added to my might—

Old Gaia blessed her

linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform

Inspired by “Weirdest”, the winner of Expanding Wee Bits of Dark Fiction and Poetry, 5; the original poem was inspired by a drawing in Jeremy A. Bastian’s Discordia (yes, my Luvs, inspiration seems to be running wild around this parts *cough, cough, cough*).

Fox Drawing (detail), by Jeremy A. Bastian
– detail from a fox drawing in Jeremy A. Bastian’s Discordia (see full image HERE)

46 thoughts on “Weirdest

  1. I love how you used weird in its other speakings, how you portrayed the basic need to defend what you love, what makes you feel safe. A gift gained by sacrifice, strange other kin, and danger make this into a dark, bloody fairy tale. Which, of course, means I like it so very much!

  2. I knew reading this would make me cry. It felt like I was right there with them. My heart sped up and I wanted so badly to save them. 🙁
    Beautifully written though. So beautiful.

  3. There is a streak of divine madness in this… It is like an old myth, the way you tell it.. and in the end the vixen is left with her wooden leg…

  4. just rushed through the gap
    and leapt for man’s throat.

    It was antagonized but reacted. A chain reaction as a consequence resulted in a smashed leg shot at in mid-air. That’s the way it is. Love the story Magaly!


  5. You tell a vivid story here, Magaly– really a fable– it is wonserful how the creatures man together against the man who himself is rather like a stick. Thanks for thinking so out of the box. K.

  6. WOW!!!!!!! I am so glad I didnt miss this one. Each word sank into my soul like the very best, most familiar story………….in that there is a Knowing, in both the writing and the reading of this amazing gem. Absolutely stellar.

  7. Wonderful and wishful poem, Magaly. Wonderful because the good guy wins, wishful because foxes generally don’t attack humans. I like your style, it could have been one of Esop’s tales.

  8. One of your best, Magaly–so tender and full of compassion for the plight of those who speak the non-human language, and are doomed to be our innocent and long-suffering victims–it is indeed mythic *and* surreal in feel–and makes us feel a magick that is long gone from this world….or is it? Perhaps, the weird is always with us.

    • I believe “the weird is” indeed “always with us…” waiting to pounce… if we let it…

      Thanks so much for the bit about my “best”. This is a bit of an experiment–short story written in poetry–and knowing how much you (one of my favorite poets) like it means a lot to me. ♥ 🙂 ♥

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