shadows like black masses
canopy of trees protective yet penetrable
all night rains enriching the underworld
three or four children noisily passed by
and I turned from one side to the other
as they placed stone markers near my feet
I heard one say this place should be
buried in snow
which of course made me laugh
(if only that were possible)
they continued to arrange the markers
until they were satisfied with the pattern
little did they know that their ritual
awakened an age-old spirit
and as I rose from the earth into the misty air
all they could do was run and scream
january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
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