Heading Toward Trouble by Margaret Lloyd

Lately I’ve been thinking about Efnisien.

The trouble-maker, the rash prince, the complicated man.

 

I see him in the north of Wales.

It’s the dead of night in the eleventh century,

everyone exhausted from feasting.

He slashes the lips, tails, and eyelids of horse

after horse until all the King of Ireland’s

steeds are maimed for his revenge.

In the dawn, he leans back to rest

against the toadflax growing in the castle walls.

I find myself heading toward that kind

of trouble. Wanting to disrupt the feast,

overturn the order, throw a child

into the fire to avenge some insult.

And later be perfectly willing to break

my heart for any neccesary reason.

 

by Margaret Lloyd