Emma Smith Speaks Her Piece

Poem

I asked you not to go
But someone got there first
With other words
As they so often do;
So now I speak my piece.

Please, forgive
A wife’s proclivity for last words
And fond distrust of those
Who dream
Without sleeping.

Please know
Of all my pains
None is more exquisite than
That inflicted by
This understanding: the only
Reward God gives a true prophet
Is the vision.

In the end
Nothing of this world
Was yours to keep,
Not even the mantle.

And please know, too,
That I was less jealous
Of other handmaidens
Than I was of
Other voices.

About the author(s)

Thomas Asplund, formerly a member of the faculty of law, Queens University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada, has passed away. Final preparation of this poem for publication was made by the editors.

Notes

Share This Article With Someone