A Charm Against Uncertain Borders
For I run and Raven on the thong knocks his beak
against my chest. For luck, I touch his eye.
Is he Huginn? Is he Muninn? That would
be hard to say, as thought
roosts close to memory
Tomorrow I ride the edgelands of the Danelaw
keep close what lies at Raven’s back.
For knifed into the bronze, my troll-wife
leads her horse down these same paths.
All night her long hand bridles him
with snakes to make him tame
Her long eye is my old amulet
she is the secret dark
inside of barrows
now it is my time
to bridle them