Louise Erdrich(b. 1954)
The Butcher's Wife
O n c e , m y braids s w u n g h e a v y a s ropes.
M e n f e a r e d t h e m like t h e gallows.
N i g h t fell
W h e n I c o m b e d t h e m out.
N o o n e c o u l d s e e m e i n t h e dark.
T h e n I s t o o d still
T o o l o n g a n d t h e braids t o o k root.
I w e p t , so h e l p l e s s .
T h e braids t a p p e d d e e p a n d f l o u r i s h e d .
A man came by with an ox on his shoulders.
H e y o k e d i t t o m y apron
A n d p u l l e d m e f r o m t h e g r o u n d .
From that time on I wound the braids around my head
So that my arms would be free to tend him.
He c o u l d lift a g r o w n m a n by t h e belt w i t h his t e e t h .
In a c o n t e s t , he'd press a w h o l e h o g , a side of b e e f .
H e loved his highballs, his herring, a n d t h e a t t e n t i o n s o f w o m e n .
H e died p o u n d i n g his c h e s t w i t h n o last w o r d for a n y o n e .
The gin vessels in his face broke and darkened. I traced them
Far from that room into Bremen on the Sea. 1
T h e n a r r o w streets t w i s t e d d o w n t o t h e piers.
And far off, in the black, rocking water, the lights of trawlers
Beckoned, like the heart's uncertain signals,
Faint, a n d f i n a l .