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In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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Pact

Pact 

at thirteen I asked give me this

every day of my life

 and you answered

 I will if you give it to me

 

and every day since

I have given

and you too have done

as your word

 

and now in the fifty-sixth year of my age

still I give every day and I ask

and still every day you give and you answer

I will if you give it to me

 

From the Hebrew

 

 

ברית

כבן שלוש־עשרי שאלתי

תן לי כזאת כל ימי חײ

וחזרת

תן לי ואתן

 

 

 

 

ואחרי כן כל יום

נתתי לך

ונתת לי

כדברך

 

ועכשו כבן חמישים וחמש כל יום

עדײן אני נותן ושואל

ועדײן אתה נותן וחוזר

תן לי ואתן

 

Minneapolis, March 2014

For Christopher Blackwell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tagged in: pact poetry
Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

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