The Only Unicorn
A Poem
The men and the dogs
knew they were in the wrong
but made chase from the castle
and kept chase all night long.
This is how men and dogs are made,
and the best of them raced
until dawn, by which time
the red behind their eyes
painted the sky in their fury.
Because a creature was born
and hidden away
from their eyes and their spears,
and harnesses that still held air
while they chased whispers.
A silver whisper rounding corners
betrayed by the moon
and now the daylight
dripping down its bleeding body.
The men and the dogs
had not touched it.
It was the trees and the birds
turned against it.
Nature’s envy weaponized, and twigs
which had been damp and soft
snapped loudly underfoot.
The innocent beaks tasted,
in jealousy, unicorn blood.
No hiding place.
No sanctuary for a beautiful thing.
The rain that did fall,
fell like fireworks on its hide,
so that when it came to a stop,
from its pitiful ride
by the lone water’s edge,
and though none had caught up,
it was half ripped to shreds.
It was already dead when they did catch up.
Its soul, wholly of the earth,
darkened and frozen,
betrayed by what little
of the world it had seen.
It was dead behind the eyes
as the first spear pierced it
and wounds broke atop wounds
that no soothing words could heal.
Where unicorn blood
is spilled (it was said)
nothing would grow
‘til a century of men
are silent and dead.
But the ground then was hidden
by leaves and rare flowers
the earth had forbidden.
A century did pass,
and was just as soon forgotten.
But the ground remembers
and it will remind us
that something so perfect
was once sent this way
and the men and the dogs,
with the trees and the birds
chased through the night
just to send it away.
And that’s why
there are no miracles
anymore.
Process
I was drawn to this picture soon after rediscovering a childhood favorite film, The Last Unicorn (and Peter S. Beagle’s book by the same name.) The tapestry style reminded me of the film’s art style and themes. There are frequent hunts and chases for the unicorn, and comparison of the creatures to purity as well as fury, two stark opposites. In medieval literature and folklore, only a virgin that could subdue the creatures. (1)
In the film, the immortal unicorn is forced into mortality to save itself, and suffers mental horrors and loss of self as a result. I wanted to explore this theme of immortality, and the hunt as a human’s futile attempt to justify its place in the immortal world.
The hunters are driven to chase through the night because they have discovered something one-of-a-kind, and therefore must seize this opportunity to make a legacy — living forever by killing something mythological, thereby claiming the myth for themselves.
But this is the only unicorn in the poem, and the nameless hunters remain nameless throughout, just as they do in the tapestries, and the six others restored alongside this one. (2) So the hunters did succeed in creating a legacy, or at least adding to an existing mythos. Only, by doing so they have failed to claim it for themselves. The kingdom in the background remains only in the corner, as the unicorn, though captured, maintains the focus of the story.