A bull called Calvary,

In the depths of winter Calvary seeks refuge underground

far from the howl sweeping the land’s frozen surface with the low battering void.

In earth

The dark labyrinth is warmer here than the cave mouth

and a different world

The two brothers Altamira and Pech Merle creep within the light of the fire stick that makes the path between knowing and that, which is not

their shadows move beyond the footfalls

the murmurs and shifts within the light of the fire stick and the edge of seeing on sleeping stone

Calvary is there

roaring fingers mix rust with bone,

charcoal with clay

to mark the sleep of stone

or paint upon, which the ancestor did

to danger in this labyrinth, living beyond the edge where bull and bear and mammoth roam.

there darkness goes

Circling on the other side

They force Calvary to the bullring and mark him like they say, and stab him with a crucifix till blood floods the shoulder then sleeps like painted stone

they cut off his ears and tail for display in trust the beast is dead the family cheer and cheer again but they only stab the flesh

because Calvary is coming again and again,

when danger yawns in the labyrinth

from the horns

winter howls overhead.