He came as I saw he would....
 
	He came as I saw he would, lithe as
	  a fisherman, cursing the oars.
	The eye on the prow calming the wave,
	  his man at the helm
	knotting old nets. The sun on his
	  shoulder as the dream had foretold.
 
	I sent my young singing bird down to the
	  beach, she watched where he went.
	When I knew he had taken a mouthful of
	  wine, I closed up my eyes,
	went deep for the steadying vision and
	  called up the song.
 
	I sent myself walking the sand, winding
	  him down to the deep
	where the fish in red armour walk slowly
	  the rock and the weed.
	When I felt the tide turn I cast, caught
	  him and hauled on the net.
 
	Sun betweeen shoulderblades turned me
	  to ghost as I passed by his eyes,
	I felt his heart leap in my breast like a
	  fish in a pool but I passed,
	When I turned for the homeplace I heard
	  his foot slap in my dust.
 
	That was the drumbeat my heart's song
	  had waited the years for.
	He flared at my heels like a fire, dreams
	  like a torrent I wanted
	to tame, channel and feed to my vines
	  pouring onto his feet.

 
	
 
 
 
	When I passed through the gate I faltered
	  and wanted to turn
	but a child called in her fright where the 
	  dog had grown bold.
	I watched in the bronze of her eyes as I
	  went to the house:
	my mother had measured him, fixed on
	  his station and place.
 
	I had to teach my singing birds new
	  measure and grace,
	I had to guard my look and thought	
	  make my face
	mask of the moon, watch myself, ward
	  myself
	In word and gesture. My lovers at night
	  become troubled
	and sad, turning under my hand like fish
	  in dark water.
	I watched until the stars had dusted the
	  full grapes,
	keeping his dreams from him, the better
	  to take his body.
 
				Theo Dorgan
 
			From Sappho's Daughter
			Wave Train Press 1998