“Without Perfidy”
Under a rock ledge
near my house I detect
evidence of animal killings:
bones, skin, entrails of squirrels,
the skulls of frogs–
but no perfidy
as inferred when humans doubt
the felicity of their sacrifices
to gods and ancient orders.
Around the ledge is forest debris
ripped by recent high winds,
deposited for rapid decay
during another dark, mid-winter.
Above the ledge is soft, green moss,
tempting me to early sleep.
I have been my own priest for years.
My sermons are known for absence of protest.
KEITH MOUL’S work has appeared for more than 40 years in the US, Canada, and Britain. He writes from the relative isolation of the Canadian border, among deer, trees and rocks. He’s also a photographer of striking images.
