she-god after she-god
she who came before
climbed jagged rock face
& granite overhang
again & again, who fell
from great heights
only to clench her teeth
& take hold
she-god after she-god
after she-god, standing
sole to shoulder
link together
those bruised & abandoned
rise & morph to crane
& basket, woven with limbs
that cradle & lined
with centuries of endometrium
it all comes rushing back
the muscle memory of survival
the witness in marrow
& ghosts in hair follicles
shed too soon
suffering wells
threatens to leak out
unexpected, this explains
the exhaustion hovering
over what she hoped
to be the finale
but quickly recognizes as the reprise
she-god holds nothing supreme
no ridiculous fate or reasons
just preparation
& the wildly uneven
distribution of prospect—
one white clover flower
amidst acres & acres
of carefully piled stone
Trish Hopkinson is a poet and advocate for the literary arts. You can find her online at SelfishPoet.com. Her poetry has been published in several literary magazines and journals; and her most recent book A Godless Ascends was published by Lithic Press in March 2024. Hopkinson happily answers to labels such as atheist, feminist, and empty nester; and enjoys traveling, live music, and craft beer.
