crone
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The Passion Is Enough
She pops up unexpectedly–beneath the darkening canopy of treesin the deep woods,from behind a stack of boxesin a corner of the basement,or like now,in a quiet gallery at the back of the art museum: "Beautiful, yes?" "It is," I answer.… Continue reading
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The Woman of the Woods
She always says thingsI don't want to hear: "Your most signficant questsare always the hardest.Perseverancedemonstratesworthiness.Your destination will tasteall the sweeterfor the hardship." And with that,she pulled the hood of her cloak,back up over her graying hair,and disappeared among the pines.… Continue reading
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Divergence
In the center of the village seven dusty paths diverge. An old woman lives in a cottage that stands just to the East.She watches and listens as each traveler begins the journey.Old as the sea, wise as the mountains, beautiful as songbirds at sunrise,she watches and listens.… Continue reading
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The House
I built the housesolidlyand strong–heavy shutters guard the windows,strong bolts secure the doors–an unmovable house,unshakably safe. I stand on the street,admiring my house,my sturdy, inpenetrable house. An old woman creaks by,leaning on her walker;"Quite the house," she says. "Yes," I… Continue reading
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The Crone
"Witch! Beldame! Crone!"–these names they called her. She knew the truth:age had deserted and defiled her–hunched, shrunken, otiose to most. Yet the owl knew her wisdom,knew itself to be the bird of Minervaand she the Minerva of this small midwestern… Continue reading
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All Fish Could Sing
"All fish could sing," the old one saidas she scraped the scales and severed the head."They sang to each other their songs of dread,of silt, of sunlight, of someone to bed,or why the fisherman's lures of leadwere dragged through the… Continue reading