Quail Woman



In a field
fragrant with wildflowers,
I see Quail Woman

Her hands hold warnings,
cracked eggs,
rotten yolks dripping,

seeping into the earth,
yet she tells me

she is no spring chicken,
not anymore,
she’s grey, molting

I’m an empty hen
admiring her
faded feathers

Our knees knock,
tick tock,
the body is a clock

I hear the tiny cries
of hungry birds
that I can’t provide for,

that I can’t love
because they won’t
let me

Quail Woman cracks a smile,
crushes heads of the suffering ones,
& returns their ash dust

to the ground
for she is merciful,
hears what others won’t,

strokes the fuzzy skulls
of living ones with a chance
to be lead to a semblance of salvation

I shed her tears for her,
I walk four steps behind,
& vow to carry her

through the darkest valley
when it’s her time
to coo through creamed lips,

forlorn, missing offspring,
still singing, ready
to take off for her true home

© Jennifer Patino (2018)

12 thoughts on “Quail Woman

Add yours

    1. I’m not sure…maybe? I’m not on Twitter anymore either. I think I probably did though. 🙂

      The image came from Pixabay. I feel like I can vaguely remember a fairy tale about a woman & swans or something? Haha I can’t remember much today, apparently. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

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