In a Silenced City
the lady in the deep red cloak
leaves herself – finally –
beaten, bloody and naked in the street.
Her bare but steady feet
trace tear-streaked footprints in the cobblestone
that has borne the weary journey
of those few before her who lived to tell.
And the jagged concrete landscape
rises up to wage its losing battle against her glorious dawn.
The angry, primal cries
now ring dark and dead as obscurity itself.
And she walks.
Through broken glass she walks
with gratitude that she can feel at all.
As she finds her way home.
~Christine Lasher, 1/25/10