I AM glad daylong for the gift of song,(bibliographic information can be found here)
For time and change and sorrow;
For the sunset wings and the world-end things
Which hang on the edge of to-morrow.
I am glad for my heart whose gates apart
Are the entrance-place of wonders,
Where dreams come in from the rush and din
Like sheep from the rains and thunders.
Conversation with the
Stepmother, at the Wedding
by Jeannine Hall Gailey
I did the best that I could
and she turned out okay, didn't she?
It could have been a lot worse.
These shoes are killing me.
You don't understand how hard it was,
those greasy children
with their lentils, their field mice,
always playing with fire,
their clinging fingers wrapped
around locks of their mother's hair
or magic tree branches,
their grubby fists full of crumbs.
Hard to shake them loose
no matter how I comb their hair,
how many apples I feed them,
how many times I send them into the woods.
They never blame their father
who brought me here, to a house
full of strangers, where even the servants
worship images of the dead.
I say, make room for the new.
