retreat

and after all of that, after all that
worrisome wonder, all that trepidation
and torment over what to do with my feeling heart,
after all that confusion i set myself
apart from the world, from the sullen days
and hesitant nights, i flee from the memories of the women
who once fluttered before my eyes,
feathered and fanciful. i run and dive
into the wine, into dreams, self and home;
i retreat toward the sound of the drums
and with the moving fire, seeking root and stone,
hounding the trail of blood in the sun,
swimming, swimming to shore.

i need to understand only my own dark wing,
the soil of my native bone, the stain of soil
on my hands; i need only to find myself
standing with my face to sea, still,
in stillness.