Andromeda Came to the Silver River

By ANGIE MACRI

as a girl approaches a mirror,
not yet a queen, and maybe never,
seeing in the water
no man’s voice to answer,
to say you are better
than another.
Over her shoulder, her mother
formed a constellation,
a knee, a hand, and breast perfect
as stars. The girl stared in the moving water
at dreams of a woman’s figure:
god’s follower or king’s mother
or a judge become prophet in a war.
What wonder when her mother sang verses
of the woman who used a hammer
to put a tent spike through the enemy’s temple
after filling him with milk
when he was weary: turn in, my lord, turn
in to me; fear
not. And she went softly.
The girl watched her mother reflected behind her,
long before and also after
the monster was sent to find her.
She leaned closer to the river
to better see the queen behind her,
her breath a galaxy on the river’s glass surface,
awake, awake, awake, awake.

Angie Macri is the author of Underwater Panther, winner of the Cowles Poetry Book Prize, and Fear Nothing of the Future or the Past. Her recent work appears in The Journal, Quiddity, and The Southern Review. An Arkansas Arts Council fellow, she lives in Hot Springs. Find her online at angiemacri.wordpress.com.

[Purchase Issue 17 here]

Andromeda Came to the Silver River

Related Posts

Intern reading and Issue 18 cover

Issue 18 Launch and Reading

We'd love for you to join us in Amherst to celebrate the launch of Issue 18. The Common's student interns will be reading briefly from their favorite pieces in the new issue, and there will be wine, cheese, and great conversation.

Papasquiaro

Mario Santiago Papasquiaro: Two Poems in Translation

MARIO SANTIAGO PAPASQUIARO
The sea touches our bodies / to feel its body / The same in rocky Manzanillo / as in Neviot / coral island of the desert / We return its salten smile / sketching our names & cravings / on the shells of crabs / that seem to be hunting for wooden legs swallowed by the sand.

The author and her grandmother

Cadenza

ISABEL MEYERS
In his thirty years of work in publishing, my grandfather never... revealed to his colleagues he was gay. Doing so could have cost him his job as a children's book editor... It took me only ten minutes, in a phone interview with [his] publishing house, to accidentally out him.