Ophelia

By Kate Wassell

Image credit: Kingston Online


Posed and poised

It would not do to have the face turned over -

No - it would not do

To have that pretty face spoiled,

A muddy death no match for a

Pale beauty disposed



Toward no end, flowering, she floats

Among the weeds, among the leaves,

Palms in resurrection

Parted ways down the river,

Parted lips,

To sing: I will my Lord



Through those last lines drawn,

First came the green

And then came the girl.

What fruit lies in the river

Or in the eye of the artist?

None. Let water wash over thin skin.

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