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Assumption

Windy and chipped she stands,
The last great goddess,
Her painted smile chapped.
Her leaded dress
Peels blue and white, about her wrapped.
So all earth’s gods decay
When mortal holds change hands.

A white bit of her face
Falls to her feet. Alone,
What does a goddess think
Turning to stone?
Why does she smile? Her cheek turns pink
And sunset comes to grace
The high abandoned place.

Does the last goddess cry
When no one brings flowers
Or lights her a candle?
With all her powers
Gathered back under her mantle
Receding into sky
How does a goddess die?

 

by Monika Cooper


This poem first ran in the July/August 2006 edition of Grub Street Grackle. It appears here online for the first time.