Zeus Came Down

He took me while hunting
a strange turn of events
a shadow, I thought, a branch
broken off a tree falling at me
only to be lifted up body and all
in a tender touching of talons—
my own cornered game frozen below
arrows released un-aimed

twisting around, the air disturbed
by wings’ gorgeous displays
putting the sun to shame, quivering
like a hart about to bolt away,
and then to land in a cloud
a plume of gray-white-rose
without scratch or mark except
the kiss his beak wrote on me

a hand lifted, oh, one of mine
perched on his avian face
feathers molting as dust blown
away, as if seeing through a veil
I peered at the creature an eagle
now a man—true form blinding
who knew only desire always
to be satisfied in this way

Now sunk in a cloud, myself
wanting, willing to preserve his curse
that of only temporary contentment
the kiss after kiss never seared in;
the patchy sky a sad habitat
to always combat a fickle wind
such familiarity turned contempt
and then to cold what’s-next

but feathers enfold, I tug playful
hoping one… two… more might tear off
soon the flesh will show full and
we’ll find ourselves back beneath the trees

Konstantin N Rega graduated from East Anglia’s Creative Writing MA with an Ink, Sweat & Tears scholarship. A two-time Dan Veach Prize for Younger Poets finalist and Best of the Net nominee, he has been published by Poetry Salzburg Review, Richmond Times-Dispatch, The Interpreter’s House, Ninth Letter, The Comstock Review, etc, and contributes to All About Jazz and the Southern Review of Books.