Helen Leaves Egypt

By Mark Mitchell

You many unassaulted cities….

—Rilke, The Book of Hours

She lived before the lighthouse rose. She loved

before the library—loved tall heroes—

A goddess dropped her here while men bled, moved

by beauty. The boat bobs up. She leaves home.

Leaning back, she drops the bow in water

to carve a path through reeds, sleek and sharp.

The fat man pilots. She knows he finds her

a threat, this lost god’s sinister daughter.

He’s a silent fish—heavy, numb, but smart.

East whispers in her olive colored ear.

She hums its tune, glad to leave the small world

that slid past her tale, whose wars weren’t hers.

She drags long fingers, cool. Open seas near.

Sun bounces, blinding almond eyes. Breeze curls

around sails. Cosmas—pure ballast—wants fear

to eat, and to reach the end of the girl.

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Mark J. Mitchell has been a working poet for 50 years. His latest collection is Something To Be.. A novel, A Book of Lost Songs is due April 8. He’s fond of baseball, Louis Aragon, Dante, and his wife, activist Joan Juster. He lives in San Francisco.

He can be found on Bluesky @MJMitchellwriter