Wanderess
Hibah Shabkhez
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I am a wanderess. I roam. I tread
Paths paved with danger and with draining guilt, With soil kneaded into mud by tears shed Not in pain but in rage. Over the spilt Milk that would have been smilingly offered In a whole pitcher to a wanderer. Over the jeers, the cold scorn discovered In a lorn would-be-wanderess sister. I am a wanderess. I roam. I tread Lightly through life. The grave and the lawless Welcome with like mocking nods of the head My coming. All roads lead to happiness Or none. But the joy of present peril Of wresting back our breath from scornful storms We all search for, o sisters in a shell: I in my roamings, you in staider forms. |