Sovereignty
Taking on the role of battle goddess,
I rush toward nightly war cries
upstairs as offspring wrestle.
I turn corvid,
oil-slick wings hovering
as laughter turns savage.
Bruises blossom springlike;
I can predict the outcome every time.
A mother is bloodied,
she is cleaved and divided,
washing DNA from clothes
and tears from stained faces;
Clinging to offspring that pierce.
Humans look toward their own feet
and above, providence goes unrecognized;
Who knows how often I’ve been swept up,
my own mother, hovering
just beyond my line of sight.
She doesn’t surface in childhood
memories of moments that tower,
those cornerstones I’ve built a life upon.
She was directing battles from a perch;
one I now claim.
Amanda Coleman White is a poet and storyteller currently working toward a PhD that combines creative writing and Celtic myth. She has been a featured poet with Indolent Press, and has poems published in literary magazines such as Channel Magazine, Obsessed with Pipework, After Happy Hour Review, and The Dawntreader.