A Woman Free: a Poem

I run
into the midnight sky-dark.
My hair wild –
untamed and unbrushed.
Stars coursing through
my veins,
a feral gleam in my eyes.

I shimmer when I enter
a room,
as dirt lines my feet
from waltzing with dandelions.

I read tarot and dreams
and poetry.
I whisper my secrets
to the goddess I see in the moon.
Photograph sunrises and play music
for my plants.

I consult my crystals
but still pray to the saints.
St. Anthony for lost, little things.
St. Jude for lost causes.

But I still wear faint scars
on my wrists,
and remind myself
the past belongs to yesterday.

Reminding myself
from now on, from forever forward,
I am no longer a woman shackled
but a woman free.

Isabelle Palerma