She Will Not Wait
"No coward soul is mine, no trembler in the world's storm troubled sphere..." -Emily Bronte
like a worm he crawls
behind his façade
and only she can see him
smirking through the boreholes
she wants to punch the world
and kick at his smugness
as the siren in her breast
alerts her to the storm
at night after the squall
there is no stillness
in her wind whipped face
and she searches for hope
in a faceless moon
telling wordless stars
she will not wait
for grass to grow over
his hobnailed boots
© Christine Magee
