Aurora hangs her dress
on a hawthorn tree with needles
sharp and slightly curved
as if to sew. The berries
bright red are ready
to be plucked to make
a tea for the heart.
Aurora wants the dress
to have a second heart
one besides her own.
I watch her from the kitchen
door. I’ve asked her to cut
the herbs for dinner, but she’s
dropped the shears in the grass
where they will rust if left.
When I ask Aurora to draw
water from the well, she always
asks for a second rope, as if
she might have the strength
to lift someone who’d been
drowned years ago.
Jessica Plante
Jessica Plante is formerly a Poetry Editor of The Greensboro Review. Her book reviews, interviews, and poems have appeared, or are forthcoming, in theAmerican Poetry Journal, Birdfeast, Crab Orchard Review, The Collagist, Saw Palm Review, StorySouth, Tirage Monthly, and Writer’s Bloc. She is the founder of the website mfadraftsessions.com which she maintains from Tallahassee, Florida.
Artwork: John William Waterhouse, “Woman Picking Flowers,” 1909-14
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 