When the horses came she stayed in her room.
They entered from the back, one a time
with furious manes, unshod hooves and eyes
illuminating the room with shades drawn
to keep them mounting her one at a time
over all the days they would be here now.
She said what the loas told her to say.
You erred calling Erzulie Eulalie
Erzulie-ge-rouge suffers such mad rage
Go with us home where we live out the days
Let us in to be with you all the nights
We go with her to the water to drink
We run with her wherever she is called
She sends us to you to answer the door
Music came in the house in spite of them.
They opened the door, closed it behind them.
The house was too old to keep music out.
It only grew louder as it passed by.
They let it be, it was only a dirge.
The music was for the someone who died.
They knew how to die and live forever.
They could be earth, they could be water.
They were everywhere they wanted to be.
They would come if they could hear you calling.
They would come if you knew the words to say.
There were words with music but not the same.
Their music was sung by the one they rode.
The one they rode was the one who rode them.
When her face is no longer red, body
washed of love slaked for her sake, go on back
(4 February 2011)
copyright 2011 by Floyce Alexander