The mad girl at Maiden Castle
LAURENCE LERNER
The wind runs over the startled grass; I ran between two dykes; Sitting slumped in the hospital I dreamed of it for weeks.
Carved in the chalk over Cerne Abbas The old giant lifts a limb
In lust. I felt the wind and ran, And I was fleeing him.
Four thousand years of wind ran down The hill to tear my flesh.
When it was over they led me home, Spoke kindly, bathed the gash, Swore they'd lock him up. I dream Of the pothole where I fell, The barrow, the billowing dyke, the grass, The chalk man on the hill, Who hurt, and laughed as he climbed off.
'Are you a giant?' I said.
`You'd think I was, to hear you scream, And see the way you bled.'
Only the wind could lift my skirt, Only a giant could stroke My moistening thighs with his huge hand, Leaving long streaks of chalk.
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