165. The Three Sisters

Faith, Hope, and Charity
with their bountiful bosoms,
Nursing the men of the fields
the Deer of the forest –
that four-legged king –
green grass rolls down their backs
like verdant waterfalls
until it gathers in pools
in the valley below.
So did a tribe, proud people,
rely on their gentility
Until the bleak Midwinter
when guest turned on host
in his own home
and the land did the same
as one woman fled the carnage
one brave, solitary, foolish woman
because she considered the mountains –
their names, their summer cheer –
and expected faith, hope, and charity
but, as she disappeared
into the blizzard and their frozen breasts,
Charity was impossible
Hope was ignorant
Faith was compassionate
but could do nothing
only stay on the woman’s blue lips
as the snow carried her up in a current
and rolled her under its waves
to settle in the valley bed.
And, when the spring came,
the sun answered her prayers
as she thawed in its warm nourishment –
never to fear bloodshed again.