Drum
(for Mary Hogan)
by Alixa Doom

We enter the darkness of deep grass, 
the other side of skin.
Under the full moon my drum 
fills my arms like an old friend.
Walnut stain drifts 
like shadows of timber 
across its deer hide taut over cedar,
and echoes deep as deer belly
smoke through the voice on my tongue.

As we step into the corral
Mary’s horses approach us, 
one by one they sniff my drum.
A colt nuzzles my palm, trots the beat,
while the stallion stands against my skin
his blue eye flaring moonlight.
Nearby a mare’s neck 
arcs with tenderness.

Black water twitches at the mouth of mink. 
Drum awakening 
stars and stones in our bones,
I have not walked this way 
among horses before.

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