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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4038 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Margaret’s Green Man Lauriette (Laurie Byro) In summer, the stream slows enough for the nimble to wade. River-bed rocks create a path for dragonflies and damsels to rest. Chalky blue with crazy neon eyes, we watch them flit and hover, too exhausted to mate. Their eyes are like berries that the green man favors. You, who won’t believe, smile when I speak of his visitations. December, he trails me, inevitably seduces the part of me that still believes in demons. Watching these creatures, I think of my mother’s mother, Margaret. It would be simple to say nothing, to reach for your hand. “Listen,” I say while they fly in closer to hear. “Margaret had six children and seven more pregnancies. She used coat hangers.” You lift me up, move me into sunlight. A hummingbird lands on a doily of Queen Anne’s Lace. “He held a gun under her breast those nights she didn’t want to. He was a cop.” You shudder, ask me why I am spoiling your walk, why the green man is having his way. “It’s the dragons” I say, as they chase each other, flashing red. “She told us as kids, they could darn our lips shut. if we dared them. If we dared tell on them. My hand covers my mouth. |
