Given Time

Born of magic, born of might

A turtle by day and bear by night.

The characters from the books she's written

Come to her mind again and again.

She brushes hair back from her face,

Everything is ready

Everything is in place.

The pen moves of its own free will

until

she stops to stare out the window

at a darkness full of uncertain futures

and half-hearted starlight.

Tempted, torn just a little too much,

she's paying the price for a

moment of truth.

The pen moves once more

Up-down-up again, and

she realizes that she now has

too much to lose, and

too little to win.

The bedroom door is open upstairs, and

she can hear him snoring, unsuspecting.

Bus fare waits in her purse,

and soon she'll be running

away from her family and away from her curse.

The letter is read, re-read, and read again,

folded then placed by their bed.

The front door closes with barely a whisper,

and she catches a shooting star low on the horizon

out of the corner of a red and swollen eye.

She pads along the sidewalk in worn-out shoes

leaving her children to a man she never really knew.

Born of mystery, born of night:

She wishes that she may,

she wishes that she might...

3.28.1998