Epimetheus on His Crag
‘in the end, with the heaven-sent girl’
– Ted Hughes, Prometheus on His Crag
Sodden underfoot the flooded marsh at last
Meets the rock shaped like a shout of frozen flame.
He has outlived his brother
Who outlived the vulture
Who swallowed the sun;
There are dark marks about his eyes.
He has been drinking. Only a trickle.
Crowned with the human gift, a hind:
A stag of antenna, an old sock, a wind chime.
Only a jangle of ephemera.
She pads to an old washed up fridge box
Door hanging rust-scorched from its hinges.
There is no hum like the soft bodies of bees meeting.
Her soft nose nuzzles his side
Her paraphernalia slices an ancient liver spot.
Cuts skin like a box-cutter.
DANIEL HINDS lives in Newcastle, UK. He won the Poetry Society’s Timothy Corsellis Young Critics Prize. He was shortlisted for the Cinnamon Press Poetry Pamphlet Award. His poetry was commended in the National Centre for Writing’s UEA New Forms Award and has been published, or is forthcoming, in The London Magazine, The New European, Wild Court, Stand, Southword, Poetry Salzburg Review, Prairie Fire, New Contrast, Carousel, and Shearsman, and broadcast on BBC platforms. Twitter: @DanielGHinds