Page 14
September/October 2011
The Lance
ART ALIVE
Witch
She gazed in the mirror as a young girl
at her rosy, apple-cheeked twin,
staring until her face shifted into
a silver-haired womans.
A trick of light refracted
from a sheet of mercury glass.
Still, it was a forecast—
the sharp, sunken cheeks
she would someday glimpse,
a woman staring back
in a shop window, a stranger
from another lifetime.
Mirror, mirror
From another lifetime
in a shop window, a stranger,
a woman staring back.
She would someday glimpse
the sharp, sunken cheeks.
Still, it was a forecast
from a sheet of mercury glass,
a trick of light refracted
A silver-haired woman
staring until her face shifted into
the rosy, apple-cheeked twin
she saw in the mirror as a young ^rl.
Beth Copeland
Class of 1973
MARE
(Continued from Page 13)
a piercing eye, communicating her question wordlessly.
“Its just I’ll miss him is all,” he shrugged out of her grasp
to stroke the palomino’s facc. She didn’t change her expres
sion. “Alright, it’s you I’ll miss,” he admitted with a sigh,
turning his fece away from her.
“I’ll be right back,” she gave him an encouraging smile.
Nephew or not, he was more like a brother in more ways
than one. “Buck up,” she ordered slyly, slapping his shoul
der. “You’ve got double chores while I‘m gone and I won’t
allow any slackness. This place better be ticking like the
king’s pocket watch when I get back,” she said chafing his
arm and stepping to open the stall door. The horses moved
automatically to meet her. She stroked each face in turn and
grasped the lead ropes to move them out of the stall.
Standing in the corridor she checked the lashing on the
buckskin, her personal horse standing in as pack mule on
this trip, and the cinch on the palomino. She would be rid
ing the stallion as a precautionary action.
“Well, good bye, Aen,” she sighed turning back to Lucas,
hanging her head over her shoulder. He couldn’t help but
snicker at her comical expression, even though he fought it
with arms crossed and head hung down. He turned and
shoved the bam door open as she led her posy out.
“Good bye, then,” he murmured as she mounted, leaning
against the door frame, arms crossed again. She turned in the
saddle to give him a comforting smile, but it was contorted
in her effort not to laugh, which made him snort as he tried
not to grin back, but keep up his sulky stance. Lara shook
her head and guided the animals onto the road.
Lucas shrugged away from the door frame to stand in the
center of the lane. His features slumped longingly as he
watched her ride off, the moon touching her exposed hair
with silver now.
“Take care,” he whispered as the sea breeze carried his
words away. He stood and watched horse tails swish out of
sight and stayed in the lane ‘til he could no longer hear the
lonely clip of hoofbeats. Slowly he trudged back to the barn
to retrieve the lantern and close up, then he jogged glumly
back to his cottage.
The night ride was pleasant for Lara. She rode quiet, but
alert in the saddle, aware as the scent of the ocean was
replaced by that of damp earth and nearby forest. She let her
mind wander as they plodded along, watching the patches of
(See MARE, Page 15)
“ Think Globally, Act Locally”