Beauty for Ashes Poetry Review

Mary Agnes Dalrymple

The Annunciation
I had gone to gather eggs as usual
The sun just coming up
east an orange mist over the wood
of the fence, the wet grass, the powder-soft
topsoil soothing my bare feet
Inside, my mother kneaded dough,
placed wood chips
on the beginnings of a fire.
In another house, my intended lit a lamp,
tied back his long black hair, made ready
the tools of his trade.
I slid my hand under each hen
gently removing the still warm birth.
When the angel came,
the flash of light caused me to drop the egg I'd just plucked.
Later, I found it
lying perfectly whole on the ground.
I picked up the miracle,
hid it under the hen to hatch.
The clucking sound it made was like a woman
gossiping behind my back.

Mary Agnes Dalrymple lives in the state of Texas and is editor of Blue Violin a poetry journal. Her poetry has recently appeared in Fox Cry, Acorn Whistle and Green Hills Literary Lantern among others.

Isaiah 61:1-3

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