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Lock and Key

She hears the key in the door.
It locks her in.

Or does it lock her out?

Maybe it's just an illusion,
this idea of transgression.
Where is it written
that there are places she cannot go?
Has she not climbed the peaks of joy
and waded the pits of madness?
She has seen love unfurl
like petals in June sun,
only to turn to dust.

But even when cast out,
(wandering in the desert)
she can strike her staff into the earth
and make the water flow.
Innocent.
Inviolable.
Insouciant,
bedecked in feathers and rags.
She examines her reflection,
powders her nose,
and wonders at her magic.

And now the closed door.

Lock and key
weigh like a stone in her heart.
Charms fail,
conjures betray.
Not even Houdini's tricks
are effective here. 

The moon rises; all is lost.
Now becomes the time after.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

10 comments:

Stan Ski said...

She's grounded...!

March 31, 2013 at 3:51 AM
oldegg said...

Her transgression must have been pretty bad but hey it sounds as though she did what she wanted in her life so she should have no regrets.

March 31, 2013 at 6:10 AM
nan said...

I think she knows where true freedom lies. Nicely written.

March 31, 2013 at 7:27 AM
annell said...

Magic, pure magic!

March 31, 2013 at 7:54 AM
jaerose said...

I hope her magic comes back into her mind and hands..there was a turn but then such is the (sometimes cruel) trick of either feeling locked in or locked out..

March 31, 2013 at 10:46 AM
Walt Wojtanik said...

Impressive work. It bears watching!

March 31, 2013 at 2:14 PM
drew said...

I enjoyed this.

March 31, 2013 at 9:50 PM
Robyn Greenhouse said...

A great read - even though all was lost!

April 1, 2013 at 8:00 AM
Alice Audrey said...

I like the line about feathers and rags. What a harsh place for her to get stuck.

April 1, 2013 at 3:02 PM
gautami tripathy said...

This is so beautiful....


inside that bowl, I see the whole world

April 2, 2013 at 9:22 AM