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Written by: Lisa Zaran | Biography
 All around me, the sky with its deep shade of dark. 
The stars. 

The moon with its shrunken soul. 
Can I become what I want to become? 

Neither wife or mother. 
I am noone and nobody is my lover. 

I am afraid 
that when I go mad, 
my father will bow his downy head 
into his silver wings and weep. 

My daughter, O my daughter. 

Originally Published in The 2River View, 10.1, 2005
Copyright © Lisa Zaran, 2005