Some Women Feel Empowered by Taking an Active Role

Snowfall: walking home.
We try for long days here, fight
the squeezing moon,

sharp-edged. We step
in wheel/foot furrows, dwell
in slick ponytails, clean white

collars. Contrast: fix extremes.
Hard to tell what is
and isn’t. Rimed branches,

coated grassblades glow
glass and I don’t. Watch:
the occasional raccoon, a father

with garbage bag and can
on the curb. No; I imagine
he’s a father. Me? Reluctant

mother without a baby. I’m a chooser.
Picture signs and breaking picket lines.
Shh. I want to be chosen

tonight. Come true, everything.
Starlight cellbright. I know;
that’s too much. But they both

seem so small and large. Listen:
Forgive it. Walk like your body is
precious, even if it’s just delicate

fear. Wrap yourself in awe.
Remember singing treble
First Noel: twelve years old,

long black skirt crisp white shirt,
hair a fire hazard. Tight
harmonies and bells.

Lines of teenage girls blowing out
candles, notes glittering white-
outs. Melt before you know
you’ve fallen. Walk home.