Alison Stone
Alcyone
The dream was superfluous.
A woman knows
when her heart’s sliced in two.
Daily I watched the waves
with no hope, just an urge
to understand my husband’s murderer.
Only wind-riled water
could extinguish Lucifer’s son.
Rarely, devotion is rewarded.
Even the gods can be kind.
Ceyx and I are feathered, nesting,
free. Not a transformation, really.
Isn’t love
always a type of flight?
Other work by Alison Stone