by Maggie Blake Bailey

Hard to be Mary,
heart set on a visit
to the only other woman
with swollen ankles.

A chance to say:
No one ever touched me.

An afternoon spent
almost asleep—
in sunlight like honey,
in a body made of bees.

The word they give her
is mediatrix.

As if I would pray
to the tallest tree
and not the lightning.

As if her body hadn’t
done all the work:
immaculate construction
of hive.


MAGGIE BLAKE BAILEY has poems published or forthcoming in The San Pedro River ReviewTar RiverTinderbox, and elsewhere. Her chapbook, Bury the Lede, is available from Finishing Line Press and at  She has been nominated for The Pushcart and also for The Best of the Net. For more work, please visit

Photo: “Honey” by Glen Scott