by Isobel Granby
I’ve done you wrong—the latticed light
burns wingbeats on my face, upturned
towards sun-marked silhouettes, the sight
of no relief. I’ve yearned
to ask you, singing there among
the branches to the open sky
what it is you’ve sung, and learned
from notes you’ve scattered, as far-flung
as empty air. But I
am here for my confession, hear
me out, songbird—I’ve done you wrong—
these narrow paths make narrow ends—
have I entramelled, sweet, your song?
The hedgerow shadows me and sends
my thoughts to ground, to darkness, low
my spirit in your silence bends,
and ceasing in your warbled note
the marbled light is cold and slow
comes peace if peace will come at all,
with no absolving antidote—
say not that it was better so—
I’ve done you wrong—confessed my fall
from all the freedom of your grace
though still we speak of what has been
with burdens whispered to the air
between the branches, green
with dappled sunlight, tracing where
you’ve sung, and in your lingering call
the traveller resumes their pace
a pilgrim in a holy place.
ISOBEL GRANBY is a folklore student at Memorial University of Newfoundland, as well as an actor, writer, and artist, and one half of the Practical Fantasists creative team (as Karin Murray-Bergquist).
Confession can be found in Augur Magazine Issue 4.2.
