Broken Woman

I am a shipwreck,

The shattered remains of a once-beauty

Turned to almost-stone by the hands of time,

Beaten down by nature,

Worn out, past the glory days.

My purpose gone,

Sunk to rock bottom.

The ruins of me, laying flat,

Covering the ground,

My shattered pieces scattered.

I cannot be put back together

When I don’t know where I’ve landed,

Or what parts of me are missing.

Rock bottom is the best foundation,

Or so I’ve heard,

For what you can create after the fall,

But I have nothing to build with,

No ideas, no scraps of the life I lost.

The ground is bare,

Aside from my glass-made pieces.

I suppose, there’s nowhere to go

But up

My shards coalesce,

And I find my heart still missing pieces

Somehow, it will beat for me anyways.

My empty hull full of sea creatures,

Dragging me to the surface, and now

I will become a woman again, built upon the wreckage of myself.

The Human Kind of Magic

There is magic here.

In the trees,

       the wind

       the mountains

       the seas

All made of wonders we cannot comprehend.

The magic beat of every breath,

       the pump,

       the ebb,

       the flow,

The blood and oxygen within me.

Do not call my heartbeat mundane,

There is magic there.

I am not as big as a tree

                 as lasting as a mountain

But I am just as much a masterpiece.

There is magic in my veins.

And of all the magic within me,

I have made it all myself.

And my majesty

       my power

       my self

       my life,

They are mine. All mine.

Mandi Howard is currently an undergraduate student at NAU, dual-majoring in Social Work and

Political Science with a minor in Chinese. She spends her free time crocheting, sampling new

kinds of coffee, and ignoring her homework. She dreams of being Secretary of Education in the

future but will settle for being President if she must. This is her first publication.

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