by Emily Rath
She wears a cape of winter grey
draped over her shoulders bare
they call her Prim
bow to dance
her suitors unaware,
of victims past and
lovers gone
regarding false identity,
mounting her in cold dominion
riding her absentmindedly.
A path is laid with daffodils
heads heavy from winter rain,
would you stand tall
Crowned
Radiant
if thousands trampled your mane?
A girl drinks coffee
watered by rain
sits under a
Rowan Whitebeam tree
amongst the treasures of quiet roses
the self can finally see
Prim opens arms
Wet and
Verdant
undressing Girl’s secret scars
washes memories of hospital
Away
while conversing with hidden stars
Girl asks Prim the answers to lore,
of knowledge owned by Destiny
Prim lays quiet, tired from Sun
and welcomes Moon’s neutrality
‘if Sun met Moon and Moon went blind
would Sun remain faithfully?
Would Moon release her dreams of courting
one younger than Sun’s infinity?’
buried beneath the earth of Prim
lay prayers left by
Dreamers like Girl,
relapses
pills
drink
drop down
from leaves
as Flowers
unfurl.
Emily Rath is from Denver, Colorado. She writes fantasy fiction and poetry.
Wells Street Journal 