Freeing the Locks

Was she locked,
or did she lock herself in the tower?
In a dream did she knit black hair
into a century of braids,
or become smoke in the dark
and sigh through the keyhole,
the lock only a lake in her throat
that must be made deep
by the heart’s grip and letting go,
and clear. Only when a girl can see
through dark,
only when she can climb
through braided night,
soul braced on the gravity of stone,
only when she can make her voice heard
by the invisible gathered
in the springing scent of lover.
Your shadow climbs up,
you climb down into the root of all things.
Then you are woman. Then you are free.

***

Mary Elizabeth Birnbaum was born, raised, and educated in New York City. Mary’s translation of the Haitian poet Felix Morisseau-Leroy has been published in The Massachusetts Review, the anthology Into English (Graywolf Press), and in And There Will Be Singing, An Anthology of International Writing by The Massachusetts Review, 2019. Her work has appeared in Lake Effect, J Journal, Spoon River Poetry Review, Soundings East, Barrow Street, and other literary journals.