The Hunter's Hand (1996)

Lived always on the edge of nothing
Hunger and death a stone's throw from the door
They made a hunter's hand
And in the palm a hole to let some creatures flee
The hunter's skill.
They laughed
Made songs and dances

And danced by small, brave lights
And in the long, dark winter nights
Told fabulous tales
Of women turning into birds
of magic cliffs that crashed together
To crush unwary travelers
And fell into sleep as deep as arctic night.