Small Mercy by Heather Whited

Small Mercy

by Heather Whited


It is a small mercy
to hear you laugh
as we look
at masks
in the British Museum;
to hear it
when I point
and say
which twisted face
scares me most.
I rub
the bandage
in the crook
of my elbow,
flex my fingers,
do not
meet my
own reflection,
sapped of color,
tired eyed.
Later,
dizzy,
looking down
through glass
into the face
of a mummy girl,
small,
preserved by chance
who lives here now
at rest
where we can visit.
There is no laughter then;
a solemn pause
does well
before we move.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Heather Whited is originally from just outside Nashville, Tennessee, and after many changes of her major, somehow graduated from Western Kentucky University on time in 2006 with a degree in creative writing and theater. After a few years working and traveling, Heather returned to Nashville to obtain a Master’s degree in education. She now lives in Portland, Oregon, where she teaches in the public schools and at Portland State University.

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