The Giantess, by David Belcher

The Guardian of the Egg, by Leonora Carrington (Mexico, b. Britain) 1947

The Giantess

Hunters long step past her toes, 
their hounds are loose and harrying 
a wild thing. A harvester swings a scythe. 
They do not see the giantess; 
I fear they’ll do her harm.
One careless crowd ignites a campfire 
beneath the giantess’s cloak.
 
Around her face the giantess unfurls a mane 
of yellow wheat: her thoughts are in 
another place and improbable things happen 
when you look and think deeply. 
The sea and sky mingle, 
the movements of fish merge with 
the migrations of birds; we see past 
an ocean’s surface 
to an assembly of whales 
and eels and lobsters.

David Belcher

​David Belcher is aged over 50, he lives on the north coast of Wales in the UK, and he is a member of several poetry forums and writes almost every day. David writes and reads poetry because he enjoys it, and for no other reason. He is not a very complicated person.