Arawn, lord of Annwn

by Meirion Jordan


Arawn, lord of Annwn

This is the story as it must be told,

the boy twisting away from you

through the summer wood, becoming man,

 

becoming Prince of Dyfed. And this

is the story as it must be told, the prince too

stepping his horse out of birdsong,

 

the tangling of hounds. The blood

slick on the grass, the antlers rearing

as the shadow of a god. This is the story

 

as it must be told, the prince

meeting himself among the foliate faces

of a book; and turns, mouth opening

 

to cry to you: no.

This is the story as it must be told,

the boy, the prince, the summer wood.

 

Blood on the grass, the shadow

of horns. And in the half-face of a god,

islands of glass. His opened eyes.

© Meirion Jordan