hymn to kali, #6
A woman sits alone in a dark white room
and thinks of the powdered glass she has placed in her husband’s meal.
She touches her face, it is ancient and smooth, alabaster in moonlight,
She remembers the wooden mirror she bought long ago, with painted birds on the frame. She will repurpose the frame, now that the glass is gone.
She and the birds will fly.
Barbara Ruth writes biomythography in both poetry and prose. Hymns To Kali is a series she has been working on for almost fifty years. She’s only been a photographer for three years and appreciates the way writing and photographing do things the other can’t, and also work together.