If She Had Wings

If she had wings

This girl would fly:

Flex those great heavy things

Dense with muscle and bone

Just launch herself right out the window

Of this rusty trailer,

Skim away over the yard

Clogged with cars that have no engines

And dead tires with no place to go.

She’d fly before he gets home

Wrapped in the smells of beer and the girl

Who lives behind the Rosebud Cafe;

Fly before he takes his ugly knife

And slices off her flying feathers

Takes that oily hard fist

And smacks her one to show her who he is

And where she needs to be.

If she had wings

This girl would fly.

But she won’t wait around for them.

She’s got what she needs:

Good strong legs in secondhand jeans

And eager feet in scuffed up boots.

They’ll do just fine.

Behind the Scenes: This piece is part of the cycle that includes "The Woman Who Is Part Horse" and "The Ground She Walks On" -- stories of women reclaiming their power (with a dash of magic thrown in) inspired by my years working in domestic violence services.