She Burned Vindication
preacher knelt
on the grassy bank
of the creek,
he washed
his dirty hands
in the cold water,
sin wouldn't come
clean,
red face, three-tine
eyebrows veering off
from his salt and pepper
graying temples, horns protruding
from his head stared back at him in the
reflection, bee sting swelled him with Lucifer's
welt,
she rode up
on her mare, turquoise
beads dripping from her long
dark hair,
dismounted
The Sundance Wives
duplicate saddle, anointed
her bandana in the creek with
holy mountain water, down to hell
with him she pointed, watched him falter,
handed him
the wet bandana,
might want to wipe
the sweat away from
your forehead preacher
those members you planted
in the congregation are dead
set granite names on the tombstone,
forbidding appearance, thunder rolled,
lightning struck the tree limb, God made
it look gray and grim, took away the light,
called it dim,
sitting on
the barstool
in the saloon,
she looked at her
own reflection in the
mirror, an outlaw angel
with feathers on her gold
spurs, rowels of justice, ass
or mule, welt or burs whiskey
made it clearer,
branding iron
hot in her hand
she burned Vindication
on the side of churches
across the land, she pulled
the rope on the church bells
giving them all a turn, a bad-ass
firebrand lurches.
Copyright 6.3.2010 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
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