The woman creeps along the alley
between the dumpsters
her pepper wool hair matted
her spine the keel of a ship
been twenty leagues under

She goes her way singing
a lullaby in witch language
I watch mother now I found her
miles away from the tower's
crumbled brick and mortar

She'd hopped the trains here
living on cans of food
she'd open with one long sharp nail
a curling blade

I miss how she'd shimmy
up my golden stairway
cackling wildly
like a windblown sailor

I have left the prince
his pauper eyes too much for me
I have some bachelor buttons
in my gingham pockets
for Mother G

She wends her way
between the dumpsters
in the cold cheer of neon lights
as I haunt her steps

We'll eat egg rolls together
She'll stuff me full
like old times
in a little room above the world


Lucy Simpson, 4/30/2011