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More poems by Seamus HeaneySeamus Heaney | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (1) | Books by Seamus HeaneyBooks by Seamus Heaney

The Skunk

Seamus Heaney

Up, black, striped and demasked like the chasuble
At a funeral mass, the skunk's tail
Paraded the skunk. Night after night
I expected her like a visitor.

The refrigerator whinnied into silence.
My desk light softened beyond the verandah.
Small oranges loomed in the orange tree.
I began to be tense as a voyeur.

After eleven years i was composing
Love-letters again, broaching the 'wife'
Like a stored cask, as if its slender vowel
Had mutated into the night earth and air

Of California. The beautiful, useless
Tang of eucalyptus spelt your absense.
The aftermath of a mouthful of wine
Was like inhaling you off a cold pillow.

And there she was, the intent and glamorous,
Ordinary, mysterious skunk,
Mythologized, demythologized,
Snuffing the boards five feet beyond me.

It all came back to me last night, stirred
By the sootfall of your things at bedtime,
Your head-down, tail-up hunt in a bottom drawer
For the black plunge-line nightdress.


Anonymous submission.

Added: 1 Mar 2004 | Last Read: 23 Sep 2018 4:41 PM | Viewed: 31706 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/9246/ | Viewed on 23 September 2018.
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