Silent skies spin silvered dreams,
Unbidden memories split silver seams;
Silver hair crowns ancient head,
Knowledge the treasure, and silver the thread.
They
all say
she was born
with a silver
spoon in her mouth,
and she swallowed it
until the lining leached
limp, a tarnished paste coating
her tongue with bitter mercury.
She dwindled, feeling nickel-
plated, tarnished deep beyond
redemption; should she
choose sterling strength
as treasure,
she’ll birth
gold.