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Robin Hamilton

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Quest

Pursuit he understood, a grim pack strapped to his back,
Knife at his belt, and eyes focused to scan
The signs on the path. This was his destiny, scryer
Of the mute particulars of love’s passing.

He encountered undaunted hearts spiked on the rosebushes,
Eyeballs scored and bleeding tears of frustration, casually
Cast aside - all the detritus of the sharp, quick meal
She made on the run through her lives.

If he met her, he would know his object -
Hydra-headed hag glossed with a sweet cynicism:
He would not turn aside, not he, for any of her
Mews or calling, lisp of pretended innocence.

So he strode strong-willed and undaunted into the sunset,
Piled cairns of grief, mended broken promises to pay his way;
Till at last following the fast tracks to a dark cave,
He found only hate to bar his way, and kill.

Page(s) 7

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