My enemy is
across the river
watching me—
His body oozes blood as
he paces,
jabbing his spear into the sand;
Sometimes I hear him
digging for bones

My enemy smells of carrion and onions
and potatoes forgotten in the earth;
The wind carries a whiff of him
across the water
and buries it in my throat—
I hold a posy to my face and
block his stench
with rosebuds and lilacs

My enemy cannot reach me anymore;
I burned the bridge to his island
a long time ago;
So, he goes on screaming at me
in his raspy, thunderous voice—

Evening settles in the woods;
The cardinals call to each other,
and the crows laugh at the squirrels,
I turn toward the collection
of coolness in the shadows.
Somehow he draws his fingernails
down my arm.