She might be God
She might be a ballerina in her old denim
floating or perhaps an apprentice Amazon
fighting or giggling with little friends in dresses
laughing or moaning with the hurt of a scrape.
She could be everything dreams made her to
be or again learning her trade with the quill
become or change as she walks and slowly
turns or stay in a pose puzzling to even space.
She would guess a journey to continue on
always or maybe imagine in her heavy boots
never or per chance to fly on the back of a steed
some time or at last to travel in her breast to infinity.
She is in truth with her wand more than a friend
apparition or dawn she guides strings, winds, and
percussion or she writes on eternal walls a code of her
creation or making worlds she exhales lives in a mere sigh.
She might be God as she glides into another day
in elegance or a glowing robe refreshing to the stars
with her scent or everlasting births given to angels
inside the palace or a shack, she might be God after all.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.