Wandering Woman, Defined

The Wandering Woman, they say, must be of the sea, of merfolk, of sirens, she is selkie, she, who must always follow the call of the waves, the land cannot hold her. No, they argue, she is like the wind, won’t be pinned, even to the water, she must fly, a bird, a wing-ed horse, a terrible angel. NO, someone disagrees, she is an island, a fortress, the thing that keeps other things out and away. For all her meandering, she lets no one in. NO! Another slams a fist on a conference table. (Deadline approaches! They must come to a decision!) She is a child, a baby, if left to wander she will toddle into a street, over a cliff. Someone must harness her, leash her, so she can earn paychecks and attend dental appointments! BUT SHE ISN’T JUST ONE THING, she screams it inside and sometimes outside too. She is the selkie, the wind, the child, and she’s happy on her island, where no one understands her, the Wandering Woman, who is more than just one thing, in a world too young for her, in a world too small.

Copyright ©2017 by Angie Tonucci. All rights reserved.