boneward
Ellie Schoenfeld
It’s been six years
since i was in Tuscany
with Livia and Domitilla
and all the wild boars
we could trap and radio collar.
In that March eighth
the neighbor brought armfuls
of bright yellow flowers
for International Womenıs Day.
Livia and Domi went out
while i stayed behind,
divided my day between
chopping wood
and the basement full
of wild boar skulls soaking
in chemicals which soften
the remaining flesh
so it can be scraped away.
It was slow work
and I am still doing it,
scraping down to the bones,
assessing whatıs left,
trying to keep warm.
