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Valfather

Weapons swelled        the wound-tide full;
That sea of blood        now soaks the earth,
And ravens feast        on flotsam red,
              The wrack and wreckage of men.

Fading sight        with shadow fills ;
A grey horse glides through        twilight's gate :
The age-old drumbeat        of eight-fold hoofsteps
              Echoes across the strand.

In Wodan's hall        the wolves grow restive-
They prowl, and pace,        and prick their ears-
The horns are filled,        the feast is laid-
              Still they watch and wait-

'Til a flash of grey        in the fields is glimpsed,
And a stallion's whinney        rattles the walls,
And eight-fold hoofsteps,        hastening onward,
              Carry the hero                            
                                       home.

©1995 by Ann Gróa Sheffield. All rights reserved.
First published in Idunna, journal of the Troth.