Pompey Walks to Freedom

Recurrent ribbons of columbine tie mulberry swaths to the midnight sky. A vanguard of seven seraphim wield dry lightning swords. In a dress woven of moonlight, its hem snapping in the wind, Seaiga looks over her shoulder at Pompey and smiles. Pompey follows her. Seaiga’s footfalls fill with quaker ladies. Pompey sees it all. Hinged casements shut tight against the wind; batten doors are battened down. Milk cows seated in big bluestem eye Pompey as he passes by. A pouch of juniper berries beats time against Pompey’s walking stick. When the sun attempts her rise, Seraphim sword-cuts tamp down her light. As more night spills through, the rooster forgets his sunrise song. Pompey sees through the night into the next morning. Noyes smiles are laurel slick, but Mama Jenny will swear Pompey went to the field to bring in the cows. Prince will have seen Pompey at the well. Crusa will be doe-eyed and silent while Sabina clings to her skirts. Pompey Freeman need not look back.