Indigo evening at the estancia’s homestead:
undulating shadows slink into alcoves,
like black cats a-waiting the witching hour.
Wives gossip round the whispering well
in the pink-tiled patio; scent of magnolia
from bygone romances softens raw realities.
Feigning flippancy, the Patrón remarks
that some of his sheepdogs are wolfish.
They’re cast at night in the Río Negro…
“With stones slung around their necks”.
Lips moving suavely, pride leaps from his eyes
to challenge stilled sounds, hushed songbirds.
Hollow thoughts… I imagine a fingernail moon
indifferently slicing the Austral night’s peace;
feral forms bound in sackcloth shrouds,
sinking under star-filled waters…muffled howls -
perhaps a hound’s prayer for quick release.
I shiver, reach for my shawl from an iron rack.
Servants keep deferential silence;
a couple of farmhands laugh out loud,
flattering the boss. They’d been there…
The Señora glides through a green
door, a phantom renouncing restive crowds.
Her random gaze probes powers unseen.
Comments
It sounds...
as though, not only was he untrustworthy, but mean too. To get rid of the dogs in such a way, is extremely cruel. Better to shoot them if no other way. I understand the need to protect your flocks and not have a dog that will attack the sheep, but to do it in such a way... Yes, life is like that; and you see that his wife is ashamed and hurt by his vileness. I would assume that he was not the nicest man to work for and most likely an abusive dictator in his household too. You told the story very well and I was right there with you as he lorded it over his domain. excellent work as per usual. ~ Geez.
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Thank you so much for
Thank you so much for commenting, dear Geez. He was an awful man, his surname was Saman, I believe he was of Arabian descent. Bad people all over the world, just saying.
Yes, one can shoot dogs, if necessary, but I believe the poor animals behave badly because they're trained by evil men. My Dad hated working with him, the guy cooked the books and my Dad had many arguments with him while being the Treasurer of the estancia.
I'm glad you appreciate the story telling. Some poets say one must "show not tell", but that is rubbish, all the ancient poetry classics were told as stories, from Hesiod, The Odyssey, The Illiad, etc. Also many beautiful Arabian poetry and so on.
Did you ever read the poem in narrative about the little girl Mary? It's charming and sad.
We have a beatiful Spring day and will go for a walk in a while.
All the best, Gracy
Dear Teddy, yes, it's a sad
Dear Teddy, yes, it's a sad poem. But, believe me, cruelty goes on in all ranches or farms in the world. Hopefully, in just a few. Yes, this evil guy stole money from the owner (who was not my Dad).
Thanks for commenting, all the best, Gracy
Gracy
error free and beautiful as always
your imagery is so vivid
and you always offer us a glimpse of reality in your "last Words" section
Dear lynn, thanks for
Dear lynn, thanks for visiting and commenting. Yes, always something sad and others warm. It's the way things are. I'll see where I can sign up for your workshop. We have a Spring day here, lovely for walking. Best, Gracy