Angus
anhinga in my hang-glider,
my ambit, my angler,
the lips’ full opposite.
Hungus – two gulps.
Sirloin tang for my hunger,
stirling catch, my one choice.
A stone thrown
into a silent land,
the arsenal of your arrival.
The headlong clang
of ungula at noon
Aonghas, Aengus. Your name
at my tongue-tip, double shot
extra strong. Open shout
of a Pictish king. Oinogustos,
Onnust keeper of my secrets,
the lock of closed failures.
Deep etch in timber,
proven groove of my wheel,
boar-gust of wattage.
With your name, earth shakes.
Helen Freeman has been published on several online sites such as Ink, Sweat and Tears, Red River Review, Barren Magazine, The Drabble, Sukoon and the Ekphrastic Review. She now lives in Durham, England after many years in the Middle East.