Agafya

She’s going to cross the river

And get what’s coming

The warmth of the fire

Convinced her

That the strike

Wouldn’t be so bad

And if it were

What then?

Shouldn’t you take

Happiness

Where you can get it?

She wanted to hear

Every word

He had to say

All that crossed her mind

Was emptying his head

Of every thought

And whim

The blanket he pulled

Over them

Mixed with the chill

In the air

Was enough to dissuade her

Of any ideas

That she’d be returning home

That night

Why should she rush back

To a man

Who would only notice her absence

Because there’d be no one

For him to bat about

After a bad night of drinking?

Her lover’s friends

Kept coming and going

Into the room

Laughing at their decadent behavior

And begging her to return home

As soon as possible

Because before too long

The river would be too dangerous

To trek at night

And they liked her--

Oh, they liked her very much

And they’d hate to think

Of what her husband would do

If she spent the night

But there was a good chance

He’d be just as mad

No matter what she did

Even for leaving the house

To visit her sister

Sometimes got her

Thrown against the wall

Or spit at

She was a good wife

As far as she was concerned

In that love wasn’t called for

Merely attendance

But here she was skipping out

Her lover met her

One day in town

It was her sister

Who pointed him out

And the way his shirt pulled in

As he was throwing feed

Into the back of a cart

When he looked across

The road at her

She felt a rush come over her face

And it stayed that way

For hours

So that her husband
Asked if she was sick

And suggested she sleep outside

Rather than get him ill as well

The first night she showed up

At the home of her lover

He welcomed her in

And showed her such attention

She wasn’t sure that he was a man at all

For she had never known one

To be so heedful

Each visit lasted a bit longer

And so it was only a matter of time

Before she dismissed caution

And lingered in warmer arms

When the morning arrived

It was one of her lover’s brothers

Who woke her

And offered to return home with her

Not to stave off the consequence

As no man would dare insert himself

Into another’s marriage

But to speak a few words

To her husband

Some kind of story; a falsehood

This is what the brother

Who was, himself, quite smitten,

Was willing to do for her

But she only thanked him

And made the trip

On her own

On the shores of the river

Her husband was waiting

But he mistook her somber walk

Into the house

As her willingness to face her effect

He doesn’t know

Where anything is

In the house

The knives

The rope

The axe

She walks slowly

But she knows

Where she’s going

And the river rises

Just a bit