She Flew From Him

She flew away, a nightingale near choked

upon a secret, awful wisdom. Spells,

and incantations, myrrh and lavender

and many years and she became a girl

again. The earth will one day swallow all

unholy things, in one way or another. This

I must believe and this as well: the shards

of mirror, the fragments of the broken bowl

someday transmogrify into a whole

once more or something new, fantastic, bold.

The night is old, wild chamomile and sheep

have crept up to the door. I gird myself

in armor whole that I may mutely stand

alone before the dawn, the bird’s sad song.

Copyright © 2006 Lacy Schutz All rights reserved
from Pebble Lake Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission