Swallowing the Witch’s Broom

The palm trees have weathered

a multitude of storms

to die so that I can be made.

 

Many a silent word has been uttered,

bathed in oil and incense

so that I can fly.

 

And then he dares to open his mouth,

ready to chew my spine

and be tickled by my bristled hair?

 

He wishes to rob her of her means to flight?

To swallow the magic inside me

and become one with the wind?

 

I will not let him.

For I will not be eaten

by one who does not dare to ride.

 

(August, 1999)

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