MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Little Hoot by Christine Catalano

Table of Contents

Poetry


Woman at the Crossroad

Beate Sigriddaughter

She walks in beauty, yearns
in peace, grows lilacs and roses,
sometimes picks forget-me-nots
down by the river, and knows
that deer can sound like women
talking, but wants to keep this
a secret from hunters.

She lives alone, loves solitude.
Her thick white hair hangs
down to her waist. One day
her window is broken. There
wasn´t much to steal. Her laptop
is gone, her eyes ache.

Another woman recommends a gun.
"Here, hold mine, see how it feels."
She doesn´t believe in guns.
She doesn´t even believe in high heels.
Her eyebrows contract.
She hesitates.




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