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Timouthy Scoville Poem
There is a stranger at my gate.
He stands there watching me with his glowing golden eyes, unthreatening but ever present. I've gone to my gate to ask questions of the silent unmoving visitor, his bright eyes following me as I move. I ask my questions.
"What brings you to my gate, stranger?"
"Who are you looking for?"
"Are you lost?"
I always get the same response - silence.
I'm not afraid of him, you see he simply makes me uneasy. If I knew the reason of his arrival and perhaps his need to stay I would understand.
It's been 7 days now, and every time I approach I bring small breads or a fresh clip of jerky from the weekly hunts I must go on. I continue with my questions whenever I see him.
"Did you find my gate, and this place on purpose?"
"Have you seen anything interesting today?"
He continues his silence, odd watchful guardian that he has become. I've come to think of him as such because he is always there. Even in the night during my wakeful hours when I fret about food reserves and firewood I see him there through my doorway at my gate watching, the moonlight reflecting from his golden eyes.
Many months pass with this creature at my gate, with it's ever watchful eyes. Until one day he dissapeared as if he was never there. I was unnerved after him being here with me for so long, where could he have gone.
That night my valley between mountains was alive with sounds, bird calls, the howl of the wolves that lived upon the ridge to the north, and the balking laughter of the coyotes who roamed the bone piles from my hunts.
I awoke early the next morning to those same golden eyes that I had seen ever day, peering at me from the corner of my cabin.
"What is it stranger, what's happened? Why now this early?"
"What's wrong?"
His eyes flashed with an unearthly luminescence as he moved to the foot of my bed.
"Its time to go, I've observed you for some time" with a quick shaking breath he continued "I apologize for not responding to your considerable inquiries, but your in grave danger"
Getting up and dressing quickly, we both headed for the door, out into the pre-dawn mist, down the path to my gate and out into the darkness of the forest.
Copyright © Timouthy Scoville | Year Posted 2021
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Timouthy Scoville Poem
It was there on the cliffs of my home I found them. The wolves that fight for the moon. You see, there have been tales of them passed from old mouths to the ears of children in my family for generations.
I found them both singing to the reflection of their mutual consort - the moon on a clear night not long ago. The first of them was snow white with bright pink eyes, an albino if ever I saw. The second black as the darkest pitch, eyes yellow as the sun.
Those same yellow eyes found me as I watched them, just as I exited the treeline behind them. Of course, they would have heard me first, but being what they were, unafraid.
The black one stopped singing to his lover, to watch me with indifference, but putting himself between me and his brother. I imagine he was trying to figure out if I was a threat, but I had stopped in my tracks to watch them hoping the black wolf would again rejoin his brother in their song.
A moment later, as if by some cue from the gods, or perhaps the moon called her lovers home, a great wave crashed against the cliff sending sea spray above for but a moment. It was long enough for them to disappear like shadows ,down and away, past the cliffside and up into her arms.
I looked up and two new stars sat brightly on either side of that great orb in the sky.
"What did I just witness?, you may ask. I still dont know to this day," the old hunter whispers to his great granddaughter, as she drifts off to sleep. "I still dont know"
Copyright © Timouthy Scoville | Year Posted 2021
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Timouthy Scoville Poem
Today I am invincible. Fire for blood, flesh of stone.
Today I am invincible. Wind for feet, life breathing.
Today I am invincible.
Copyright © Timouthy Scoville | Year Posted 2020
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Timouthy Scoville Poem
Behind the mirror I see you,
Under my skin I feel you fighting,
Raging for the world to feel,
Aching to understand.
Behind that mirror I see you
My limbs are yours but also mine,
My body aches against you,
Tendons taught and muscles stretched.
Behind the mirror I feel you
I feel your anger and sadness,
I stare at you in that mirror,
Those lonely angry eyes.
Behind the mirror you hide
You're an animal in a cage,
Longing to be unfettered,
Tired of hiding.
Behind the mirror you share
Aching for release from these emotions,
Eating you from the inside,
While you tear at me from within.
Golden eyes I see you,
Behind your mirror waiting for the world,
I keep you safe from this broken world,
Shattered and splintered is your mirror.
Copyright © Timouthy Scoville | Year Posted 2020
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