this time, they sent a good man to kill her
a king’s man, gold and russet red
she might have laughed, at the indignity
yesterday’s soldiers and their presumptions
greedy men were easy
cowardly men even easier
good men were the easiest of all
she took the good man into her hearth
disposed of his arms, his questions
he kept her close, painted her face on his shield
a jeweled visage, emeralds for her eyes
his king must hate him, to have sent him to her
to know how it would end
the stakes been stalking her from birth
just as it followed her mothers, her trees
all that was born to this place
owns the quality that men fear
all good men and women burn
for a face on an oak shield
for a witch of wood
Writer To Writer Literary Journal 