I am the Yde Girl
Back from the Bog
Again and again
You can see her
See me in her
Trapped in the Bog
Her blood seeping into my genes
They pull me out
Peat-shovelling peasants
And scream
She is the Devil
The blonde hair is now
More florid than fire
Bog time has done this
They say she was
A sacrifice
Her delicate scoliosis
A return to the serpent
Gave a limp
Thus twice the Devil
Some say she was
Merely murdered
Or ritually executed
Perhaps an adultress
But others say that
Thus flawed, she was
The perfect sacrificial vessel
The peasants chopped her
When they found her
Chopped her with their shovels
Thus twice made dead
To be resurrected by a poet.**