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Category archive for: Anne Marie Macari

Headlamp

Carrying little, wearing a weak

headlamp, a mile in, stumbling

and wet, the cave walls

like my own insides and I an animal

painted there. Darkness

filling in my cartoon lines, my blank self.

I am inside a hole

in the earth, with pots

of ochre and ash. My offerings—

your hair, the print of my hand.

from Red DeerFind it in the library

Copyright © Persea Books 2015
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

Red Deer

Covalanas Cave, Spain

Once I was an animal, like you, red deer,

bright as arterial blood, with

sure feet. The painter pressed you

to life with pointer and thumb.

Your one eye and pert ears.

Now you leap inside me, over

and over from my cliff

of trapped air. Back legs tucked.

Red, red, the female creatures grazing inside—

green and in motion, the earth below.

from Red DeerFind it in the library

Copyright © Persea Books 2015
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

All Souls

Cougnac Cave, France

Many corners turned beneath

pencil-thin stalactites, thousands

like upside down candles,

wet flames dripping.

Beyond my mind’s

violence, there,

an ibex painted

in calcite-milk

with wall-ooze for

a shaggy coat. Will it always

be buried? Memory

stumbling into mineral stillness,

crystallized, almost lucid, or carried—

a forgotten animal across

my shoulders, radiant

and awash in lactation, made

with hand, mouth, spit.

Dear friend, I remember

being painted

in coal and blood,

and the long gallery

where all souls parade.

from Red DeerFind it in the library

Copyright © Persea Books 2015
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

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