Beautiful Cassandra,

I’m going to ask you
not to look at the myth—
no matter how they tell it,
it doesn’t end well for you.

Mute prophecy a moment.

The history of birdsong
is also yours. Remember,
it was a heron, not a god,
that made sense of chaos.
Let its cadence sway
you now as a lullaby would.

***Cassandra’s Christmas present