The Silent Goddess

The Silent Goddess

By Audrey Howitt

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 inacrid 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

where the green may sleep awhile yet
in silent memory


About the author:

A sometime poet, Audrey Howitt is also a classical singer and teacher, a licensed psychotherapist, and a recovering attorney. She lives in California and tends her garden even on cloudy days.

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