Season of the Witch

- SEASON OF THE WITCH -

 

"Leave your room with its shadowy cat,

Your cauldron over the hearth;

Seize your cloak and pointed hat,

Come by the witches' path.

Float from the earth like a rising bird,

Stream through the darkening air,

Come at the sound of our secret word,

Come to the witches' lair!"

~ Clive Sansom

My broom

with its tufts of roses

beckoning at the black,

with its crown of thistles,

prickling the sky,

with its carved crescents

winking silverly

at Diana,

with its thick brush

of peacock feathers

sweeping the night,

with its triangle

of glinting fur.

I ride

over the roofs

of doom.

I ride

while he thinks me safe

in our bed.

My forehead

he thinks that scraggly

other broom,

my hips that staff,

my sex that stump

of blackthorn

& of twine.

Ah, I will ride

over the skies–

orange as apricots

slashed red

with pomegranate clouds–

He will think me

safe in our bed.

He will think I fear

such fabulous

flight.

It is his bed I fear!

I will burn the clouds

with my marvelous broom.

I will catch Persephone's seeds

on my flaming tongue.

Ah –if I burn for this,

how beautiful my ashes–

& how beautiful,

my beautiful, comet-tailed

broom!

~The Ride of the Witch, Erica Jong

*Italian edition of Erica Jong's classic book "Witches".
(My English edition was already ruined for so much use!)