Tarantella

Alicia Cole

[Back to front page]


Over the Acropolis geese flap,
long necks splayed and tender;
seven sisters,
their cries vaguely accusatory.
The eighth went dancing
with the gods last night.

Feather-shy,
she stood drinking punch,
feet well planted until Athena approached.
Not only favored of owls,
the youngest later told,
but also particular of water fowl.

A strong swimmer.
An excellent diver.
Like her father,
those bloody, slender wrists
so skilled at tearing water and silk aside.
Save for this indiscretion, no eggs
left in baskets,

a wobbly-legged goose laughing,
the hem of her dress newly silver.



 

Alicia Cole, a writer and educator, lives in Lawrenceville, GA, with her photographer husband, their cat Hatshepsut, and two schools of fish.  Her poetry has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Goblin Fruit, Strange Horizons, Electric Velocipede, Asimov's, and Mythic Delirium. Her musings on writing and life can be found at three-magpies.livejournal.com.


 

[Back to Poetry] [Back to Issue]