One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three-Eyes

by on August 7, 2020 :: 0 comments

Based on the Grimm story.

I am the lonely spirit
who whooshes among rocky crags
in a frigid wind.

The pulsing galaxy sends
ancient harmonies
and I listen.

The capacious night
that rides with me

Starved child,
imprisoned child,
enslaved child,

imagine a ridge or riverbank.
Sit there.
I will hear your tears.

I am the shapeshifting crone
beside you,
wearing clothes spun with spells.

These poems in my pocket—
eat them.

A new life begins
after the first bite.

editors note:

Yes! Bring your appetite. (We welcome Peggy to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of her madness on her new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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