Slipping by the water's edge
I light my candles near the park.
My dark familiar on a leash
And cakes for unseen fairies in my hand.
Ceremonial blue jeans
And dew from slightly littered grass.
The houses far away enough
For me to whisper chants and prayers here.
Drunks may raise their beers to me
But it is early yet for that.
Police ask if I sacrifice
My well-fed canine almost seems to laugh.
Healing I ask for, and peace
And some success; not even love.
Protection for those others who
Walk with me through this difficult, strange life.
Bidding farewell to the moon
I spot three children in the dark.
They gather by the streetlamp's base
Oblivious to me and to my songs.
Skateboard and pay telephones
And plastic beepers buzzing low.
Their trappings held as close as mine
My crystal rocks and jars of kitchen spice.
Briefly as we pass, I wave
They greet me swiftly and pass by.
They call in slang across the street
To others coming out to drink the night.
At the river's edge, the falls
Play back the sounds of autumn's dusk.
Cavernous Celtic syllables
And short, clipped bits of half-lost, tossed-off words.
Copper light still hovers there
As books are shut and taverns close.
The combinations of their sounds
Conveyed with equal clarity and depth.
Terminated reverie.
I join the cafe gathering.
Someone asks me for fortune's word
Another for an aphrodisiac.
Sipping on a steaming mug
Just crossed from world to world, and age
To agelessness and back again
I shake my head, and light a cigarette.
Phone-wire sparrows find my cakes
Tomorrow blithe school children will
Perhaps discover pointed stars
To wish on, softly sketched upon the earth.
Taking up the twigs that scratched
Those very stars upon the soil
They very well may play at duel
Or dragonslay, or wizards at their wands.
Come full circle, so the tale
Can silently continue here
The age moves on as does the night
You do not need the cards to tell you that.
This work is copyright The Witches Trine and the author, 1997. All rights reserved.
Back to the Trine Sample Home Page