She Wolves (for Helen Castor)
Here lies the She Wolf howling still
Her silent headstone mossing
In the Withering Heights.
Can you hear her voice rise up
Over the hill...
Towards the dwelling deaf
Her spirit float before
Un-seeing eyes
On every street ?
They drank her blood but now
They would forget her.
She has a power....dangerous.
They are not used to that.
With paranoia burning
In his anima
He scorched the pages
Of recount
And left us
A Black Hole
A Gaping void
Where facts had been.
There is no wish to know
She strode the land
Without consent or cowering.
The very thought could be a man’s undoing.
Here lies the She Wolf smiling still
Her granite headstone warming in the sun.
Her voice is on the rise
Her spirit is reviving
They drank her blood
And broke her bones
But we did not forget her...
Kristine Byrne 6th April 2013