A Beautiful Life; A Beautiful Death
She awoke in the dark, with the moon in her eyes.
She'd taken a chance; she'd been foiled by king's spies.
She rose, and drew the quilt over bare shoulders.
Without it, she doubted she could feel
any
colder.
On it: children cavorting in meadows, chasing butterflies bright
and sunbeams stark yellow.
Her lover drew near as she clung to the bars:
eyes tired from crying, heart heavy with love.
"Don't falter," she told him.
"How can you say that?"
"I know He will call me, my soul from the slat."
"Come hither," the guard said. "'Tis time for your throat
to be cut, to be marred. Please, miss, leave that coat."
On the scaffold she lifted her head, and soared far above
the terrestrial crowd, so entrenched in this land
that they viewed the sleigh ride
from one world to the next
as a punishment fair
for the sins of a girl who
simply
stole
bread.
This wasn't the end
for she knew what it meant.
A beautiful life
and a beautiful death.