Mother always told me it was a dangerous world for a girl.
Even more so if that girl had magic.
She said people loved to extinguish
the bright flames that raged and took home in our hearts.
Mother was magic and they snuffed her right out,
so in the end, she was right about the world.
Man is a cruel creature.
They’d destroy the ground they stood on
if they could make a pretty penny off of it.
The day they came, Mother was in the garden,
tending to to the temperamental cabbages poking out of the Earth.
I still remember
the color of her wings
as they dragged her
They were a silvery purple
that caught and reflected the light
in a way that made you think
you were up in
among the stars.