Hag Stands Screaming

Astride autumn hills
Hag stands screaming,
A wailing banshee
Tearing Herself
From the womb
To drag dark cumulus
‘Cross the potency of dusk.

Within Her folds
The bones are chanting,
Restoring the
Broken sleep of trees,
Discarding leaves
In golden temper.

She is the storm,
The black mare
Of midnight,
Exploding the seeds
Of aged fruit,
The tarnished gold
Of forgotten cobs,
The orphaned children
Of the Sun,
Now falling
Under the whip of rain,
The nourishing stream
To strip the soul bare

Chaos at Her fingertips
Hag stands screaming
And the Earth descends.

(copyright Beth Rees, October 2009)

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