The Mole - Magpie Tales

 

In training for the veil,

she nails the claustrophobia

but mourns the loss of her peripheral

vision, the dance classes and the wind

in her hair. She sips life through a straw

like one trapped under ice and practices

the art of being servile. They say she is lucky

to be one of but three to share his house.

She should have married Jesus

while she had the chance and slept alone.

She peers through her nose hole

and imagines life in a bell jar, contained.

 

 

 

Image comes to us from Tess at Magpie Tales, a blog to nourish the muse, one dedicated to the enjoyment of poets and writers, but I take responsibility for the rest. Tess's poem can be found here.