Paul Dundon’s Weblog


A little cheese and a little whine

The Old Shamen

All he does now is watch.
The young men no longer seek
His counsel; the women will not bear
The children that he could not feed
His mind is lively still but now his
Body will betray him, every step
That falters symbol of his impotence.
The young chief watches, surrounded by his kin
The jealous younger shamen near his side,
Counting, like the sage, the days until
The great god comes and takes him
Prevented only by Old Ways
From putting a more preemptory
End to his irrelevance.
He sees their faces: he has touched them all,
But only for a moment – his engagement
Fleeting, transitory, just a word, a charm
Enough to mend the problem, set the course
And then move on; he is present only
Where there is pain he can relieve
And now he can do nothing
And they no longer see him.
Only the gods whose will he sought
Await him now.


Filed under: Writing

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My Bookshelf

The Golden Bough
The Value of Nothing
The Fire
A Wolf at the Table
Devil Bones

My links

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