The Love of a Good Man

The Love of a Good Man

Sheila Mulrooney

Dark lilies, lilies of the valley, thorns—
My father loves the beauty of The Song
of Songs, reads it to us one winter night.
A bride among the thorns, rose of Sharon

But we are young and do not understand.
Who could—this rapturous love anciently
veiled, archaic and rippling underneath
generations of voices lost to time,

then to us, buried in winter’s first snow.
We care only for the world becoming
white. Dark lilies, lilies of the valley,
like two lost fawns. We press our cheeks against

the frosted panes, delighted by the storm
bounding across the hills like a young stag
the miracle of this forgiven earth.
Our father stands behind us quietly.

We have forgotten him. Eventually
he calls: To bed, my darlings, time for bed.
Show me your face, now brush your teeth, and sleep
until the day breaks and the shadows flee.

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Sheila Mulrooney
Poet & Editor

Sheila is the lead editor of Autofocus, an online publisher of autobiographical writing. Her work has been nominated for Best Small Fictions, and has appeared in numerous literary journals including Dappled Things, White Wall Review, Rejection Letters, and elsewhere. You can find her on twitter at @SJosephine10.

Photography by Andreas Dress