The New Owner Meets The Duende in the Old Barn
Last night, in the stone barn behind the house
I met a duende, knee-high,
Bigfoot stomping,
Spluttering gobbledigook.
‘What’s your problem, Duende?’
I asked. Perhaps a touch
Patronizing.
‘You, you, you and you.’
Jabbing its crooked finger.
I looked around: there were no other yous.
Only me in the old barn.
And the duende, still now,
Staring at me, brows drawn down
Over dark, bloodshot eyes.
I took a step back towards the light,
But it had me fixed
And it had found its words:
‘You have stolen what was mine.’
I held my ground.
Searched for the right riposte.
Found myself without words.
a note: duende in Spanish derives from ‘owner of’. It is an earth spirit, which may be found in the woods or in the stone walls of old buildings
Bel recently completed an MA in Creative Writing at Bath Spa University. Her poem ‘Prayer to the Octopus’ was shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize last year. Three of her poems will be published this March in Raceme and Allegro.