Friday, February 3, 2012
witch in the garage
In the middle of the night
things were simple,
a party of coyotes
dancing and woo-wooing.
The next day the witch in leggings,
black hair pointing to the damp grass,
talked about the table she set.
She stood in the meadow looking for scraps
they may have left,
listed off the menu: dead bunnies, salmon,
this and that.
All day you wonder why.
She has a baby you know. Raises chickens
and sometimes coyotes like to steal
Drag it to the field. Bless each feather.
Perhaps she's trading one thing for another.
Here take the trash, the what's-left-over.
But then she talks about trimming
the fir by her upstairs window, so she can see
when they come, for blood,
for the song in their bellies.
c2012 T.L.Stokes (all rights reserved)
Posted by flood water photography at 9:11 AM