in the steps of Abigail

past hash marks on the stones,
five sets of five, three alone,
she nears the gate
guarded by two words voiced in
innocence, full of hope, trust, love,
not wisely, but too well.

these words led her on a voyage
fraught with heavy seas,
thrashed by waves of
deceit, betrayal,
bound for the land of Nabal,
a shifting fortress.

yesterday she thought she
heard a sound,
hooves, confident footfall,
beyond the walls.
she came to stand by the gate,
watching, calling – is someone there?

a fleeting murmur.
her pulse quickened.
she listened.
no one. must have been the wind,
a trick of echoes, nothing more
than her own beating heart.

standing in the brilliance,
close to the wrought iron, sallow,
its pattern casting shadows
on her face, her form,
fingers reaching into the light.
warmer for a moment.

one more tonic breath.
she reluctantly drew back,
shivered, hugging herself, turned.
pausing to adjust her eyes to the
dimness, exhaling slowly, understands,
nods “yes.” a tear fell on her hand.

~ Swann Lavender

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