Forgiveness is the tiger trained
to hold a head in its mouth
but not bite down. It is the bear
beaten into the shuffling dance,
the elephant deferring
to the burden of its mildness
when all instincts
It is the beast without itself: a body
made amnesic, conquered, meek.
Mary Mills lives on the border of Virginia and Tennessee, where she divides her time between writing and photography. She shares her home with a very patient husband and some very noisy birds. Most recently, she has been published in Four and Twenty.