<\/p>\n
Mouth Bow<\/strong> I<\/strong><\/p>\n You place the tip across your mouth<\/p>\n hold it still, the shaped beechwood Between your fingers A touch, resting. Then – pluck the strung gut.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n It sings in his head. as if his soul is speaking to itself dreaming it is a man ***<\/p>\n Meanwhile the mouth moves<\/p>\n like an animal trying to escape its trap that hold it fast as it struggles to break free<\/p>\n to flee the snare II<\/strong><\/p>\n Let the eye sharpen<\/p>\n let the gaze narrow along a smoothed shaft let alignment pause as the lips purse Dead Let the song free ***<\/p>\n Drumming in the hooves of the herds on the grassland.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n That leap across this cave wall to the music of arrows<\/p>\n where the figure dances to the thumb-struck string That gives my breath its word ***<\/p>\n O poetry<\/p>\n O bloody song of the hunter.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n David Calcutt<\/strong> is Writer in Residence at Caldmore Community Garden<\/a>.\u00a0 And author of Crowboy, Shadow Bringer and The Map of Marvels:\u00a0Oxford University\u00a0Press, and Robin Hood: Barefoot Books http:\/\/davidcalcutt.com\/about\/.\u00a0 <\/a>The Old Man in the House of Bone<\/em> is published by V Press.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Mouth Bow \u00a0 I You place the tip across your mouth hold it still, the shaped beechwood sliver of a new moon\u2019s edge in your hand. Between your fingers the flat oval of bone. A touch, resting. Then – pluck the strung gut. *** It sings in his head. Twang. Then a deep honeywarm […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12420","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12420","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12420"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12420\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13199,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12420\/revisions\/13199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12420"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12420"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12420"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nsliver of a new moon\u2019s edge in your hand.<\/p>\n
\nthe flat oval of bone.<\/p>\n
\nTwang. Then
\na deep honeywarm drone
\nstruck through his whole shattered being<\/p>\n
\nof a creature sleeping in a cave of bone<\/p>\n
\nwho dreams he is not.<\/p>\n
\nwrithing a grimace of articulation
\nthrough the slowly woven web of harmonics
\nthe delicate strings of tangled sound<\/p>\n
\nto speak its song.<\/p>\n
\nto the chiselled point<\/p>\n
\ntheir one, pure note
\neased out
\nin a slow unfolding ripple of air
\nthe surefire slipstream of the bright blade of sound.<\/p>\n
\nshot.<\/p>\n
\nlet the arrow fly<\/p>\n
\nto the ghost- song breathed through the flute of bone.<\/p>\n
\nits bright blade.<\/p>\n