It is the season of the witch. Time for the maids, mothers, and crones to dance the spiral. Time to grab the broom and clean up all the messes. Time for stories and spells in the basement. Time to gather around the hearth. Time to wear midnight and sturdy boots, masks and tall hats. Time for tricks and treats and so many tasty things brewing in the cauldron. Time for All Hallow’s Eve!
for 27 October 2021
You can respond in the comments below or make a Twitter post to the Wednesday Word. Either way, begin your response with #witch. Your response can be anything made from words. I love poetry, but anything can be poetic and you needn’t even be limited to poetics. An observation, a story, a thought. Might even be an image — however, I am not a visual person, so it has to work harder to convey meaning. In the spirit of word prompts, it’s best if you use the word; but I’m not even a stickler about that. Especially if you can convey the meaning without ever touching the word.
If responding in Twitter, you are limited to the forms of Twitter. I would prefer that there be no threads because that is difficult. So if you have something long, post it in the comments below. That said, please don’t go too long. Keep it under 2000 words. I’m not going to count, but I’m also not promising to read a novel. Unless it’s really good!
If I receive something particularly impressive, I’ll post it next week. If not, well, that’s fine too. I know you all are busy. But if you’ve read this far, then I’ve made you think about… witch.
enter three witches
cold virgin, stern mother, wise crone fused in ancient ageless flesh she is become unyielding indifferent to puling insecurity unforgiving granite of fierce wardship inscrutable owl eyes of judgement she lives in the dark wood of woman’s soul in her sugared house luring rash youth into transformation and then cackling away on chicken legs and mortars and brooms she finds you amusing one insouciant eyebrow of disregard she needs you not enter the witch trailing wisps of mugwort mist in her wake trampling your dreams of duality and duplicity trouncing the unwary and witless with one feathered and flint-tipped glance you would do well to tread lightly in her garden take nothing, leave nothing but reverence and love her snakes watch you always and she is familiar with fang and claw and poison enter the witches dancing into the heart arrayed in midnight and starlight and sharp silver enraged and righteous and pulsing raw passion join if you dare but know they will never submit enter witch and ne’er come out again unchanged
©Elizabeth Anker 2021