The Wedding Gift

I refuse to be fated. So what if I was married
not for love or money, but a curse? Still the day

was beautiful, romance. A goddess danced
til goblets burst and wine spilled on the floor

while by the door stood our ranked rows of gifts:
the bowls and jewels, a drift of furs, and one box wrapped

in colored silk and crepe, with trailing bows. I know
what's in that box. That one's for me, the gift I earned

from my father, from my husband, from the gods. The curse
burns in my heart. I will unwrap it first.

I will open my heart, give back my gift to you:
Never say Pandora lacked for generosity.

She Raises Hope Alone

My husband left me when the kids were born.
He said I'd shamed him -- he had hoped for sons
Who looked like him, not fangs and spiralled horns.
Biology meets destiny, for once.

I kept the crippled youngest, named her Hope
Nursed her on blood and walked her in the park
Among the mothers learning how to cope
With children who outgrow the fear of dark

To call the Night their own. My eldest all
Grew wild, but I'll raise this last one kind.
I've come to know our kids are what we call
The future. I must teach my daughter not to mind

Her broken smile, her wings of burning gold.
I know she'll visit often when I'm old.