Ode to Artemis
April 8, 2009 § 2 Comments
I’m the kind who wakes and
wishes it was night again, my earthly clock
set for indigo eves and brilliant moons.
I empty as Artemis slumbers,
the womb that sustains me leaking fluid
until she can return.
Each morn, Apollo trails his finger down
my reluctant spine and I pray the words
that wedge me into his day –
Today I am joyous, happy and
free. I’m productive, I’m in sync with
haze, and he watches as I
apply my blush. Good, he says, you look rosy.
Artemis stirs, and shyly I whisper
my apology – the words, my prayers, you know they
are for you.
She smiles and drifts and dreams.
Writer’s Digest prompt April 8, 2009