Nora Delaney
Divination

Like a dowser, my methods are unsure
and shaky. The hand is caught in tremor;
the rod of witch-hazel dips and twitches.
I have become a water-witch, my wand
of willow slipping from my grasp. Like you:
the luck I thought would outlast all omens—
the pitiful pitch of the yarrow stalks,
the spirit-board, the spread of tarot cards.
We are not immune to divination.
Although we seek to defy augury
like the prince of Denmark, we see little.
We are not visionary creatures, you
and I. Our garters tangled, our stars crossed,
our runes long cast, not knowing what we’ve lost.

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Nora Delaney is a Boston-based writing instructor, translator, and writer. She is a founding member of The Pen & Anvil Press, for which she edits The Charles River Journal and Sixty-Six: The Journal of Sonnet Studies. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Fulcrum, Absinthe: New European Writing, Jacket, and other publications.

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