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The Goddess

The Morgue File by Agila
she burns her face in black
bark, etching new stories
on old parchment,
traces birth
in the lines around her eyes

they tell the story
of the green man now gone
the lamb left behind
as birds piston in acrid air

only roots remember his name

thin bones, wrapped in white hair
she affixes snow sprigs
bright and brittle.
they snap
and span
frigid air

long fingers spread shoots,
green with spring thrum,
push them down
into snow banks

let the green sleep awhile yet
in silent memory

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017
originally published at With Painted Words, Dec 2017, ISSN 2042-3543Publisher: Four Parts Press
Place of publication: UK

Posted for Poets United and for dVerse

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