Sin and Separation: A Trilogy

III. Witches

she's in weird company again,
though I've not been told this.
They nestle like knives, sipping hot cuppas
to compensate for an inner coldness.

She's gathering troops, witnesses.
An acute sketch, thumbing shades from the lead.
Ekeing evidence from weaknesses,
brewing my bones for intent.

They mind-read, or so I'm told,
and divine from most trivious inflexions,
thoughts I thought only I could hold,
private thoughts, unmentioned

to all but one among them,
the one just learning, listening;
unable yet to form complex sentences,
or to pass them.


Cor, 1999