Woods

Poetry by Ted Boughter-Dornfeld Copyright © 2009

Promise, promises!
More broken than Cupid’s arrow
Shattered against a frozen heart and
Hardened by slowly-solidifying
Molten words.

With a veterinarian’s precision,
Her honeyed hands
Would trace his
Hard-bitten skin,
Heal the wounded
Animal within.

Yes, he knew her well.
He remembered the ways she
Would hold his hands in hers,
Perfect his cuticles, and kiss him.
Her presence was intoxicating,
A Cape Town sun, coming down.
Bound to soothe the eyes
And the mind,
In no particular order.

She had his loyalty,
Like a hunter
With her hound
In the woods
At dusk.

Hunter with Dog

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