Sorceress
Touch of moss on the terrace is different, ask the cat.
It will tell you that and other stories, facts- if you hark.
Of course you are just the aged sorceress; voodoo dolls
pinned, ready and blood on the tablet a someone’s requirement.
The cat is you. Many spread rumors. Like stinking smell, it travels.
You have the empty eyes nobody has seen into them;
what is truly in them, in those eyes but opaque void.
Probably the cat knows. It has looked into them calmly
for hours till hunger rises into the gray cat’s guts…
It has seen your disbelief in your own process, antiques.
The young girl who has died inside the body, mind
of the ancient withered witch, lean fortune teller.
Of course the animal cannot know the past, the path that
had led you in this world of magic; make believe tricks.
The coincidences, the raised fingers, the spitting men…
The cat softly jumps on the terrace and beyond everything else…
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
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Comments: 37
suspense filled. Thank you for posting to our group.
of the ancient withered witch, lean fortune teller.
Excellent. Evocative. True.
of the ancient withered witch, lean fortune teller..."
Priceless, dear Poddar! :-)
Blessings and best wishes - S.
Thank you for posting this to The Surreal Circus. You are now featured.
This is highly visual in its rendering, like all of your work, but it reminds me of the start of a movie in the way it unfolds. Intriguing.
A sensitive porttrayal of a suffering, silent person , deemed sorceress by the same world that left scars on her soul!
Kushal, my wolf poem is posted
:+)
If you do give it a listen, email me what you think. One of Dylan's best!
and, thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
Cattish, remains devoted through the dehydration process. Aye, but the spitters will continue to haunt and taunt she; bone crackers and dust mites.
Then for the wind and an open sky... to fly!