On The Mountainside

She had no warning that moving to it would isolate her and strip her of being treated decently.

That she would be prevented from visiting any of her family or being with the man she’d planned to marry was “bonus.”

There was no safe space for weeping because to do so as it needed to be done would become a habit, unceasing.

She grew hardened by the barriers placed against her succeeding. Her wings felt as if they’d been cut off – with stumps left bleeding.

Nature consoled and confided in her, sharing its secrets to keep her mind from self-deriding.

One more trip back, and it can all finally be let go of.

She and youngling have a place that feels like home, again.