standing on the lake shore. black sky arches in a perfect “c,” cupping the lake as if to hold it in its palm. the lightning comes toward me. in front of me.
behind me a group of people, concerned for their safety, cry for protection from the storm. i tell them they are safe with me. on the horizon
with the flash of lightning
the animkiig come. i turn to the people
“they are here for me. go now!”
beating wings whip wind around me
sharp feathers slice me.
i see them come
claws reaching down,
digging deep into the flesh of my shoulder,
or carry me off with them.
i knew they came for me to stand in the place of the others…
as i stood in this storm on this slate grey shore on this ink black lake.
(c) r.l. elke