Miranda & Juliet
Juliet sits on her balcony, stares up to the moon. Miranda, on an island far away, stares up at that same moon. Both girls dream of life, of freedom, of love. They wish to be out of the window Or back on land, Away from their fathers. Maybe then they could dance in the streets, Sleep in the meadows with white cloud sheep, And have their hands kissed by strangers. Maybe, In a cold, 17th century Sicilian tavern, They could meet one day, And become friends. They could talk for hours on end, Plan out adventures and travels, And figure out how to fall in love. Then, when the sun breaks, they’d part, But only for the day. Juliet would run to the hills, Away from the stifling courts, And Miranda would run to the city, Away from the lonely wilds, And they’d live. But, for now, They sit under the moonlight, In their father’s homes, And dream.
Cycle
Birth must precede death. Tonight, I sleep as a newlywed, Beginning my path To sleeping alone as a widow.
René E. Wilde is the pseudonym of an aspiring writer currently attending Cal State San Marcos and studying Literature & Writing. They are a writer of primarily paranormal and coming-of-age fiction and currently attempting to publish their first novel.