I tried swearing at the garden pond,
to see if I could goad a water witch
into dredging herself up at at ’em
with enough pissed off vengeance
to take at least one body down.
I wasn’t decided on who I wanted,
squealing in her webbed, wet grip.
Half-thought if she came I’d go,
grab her right back with both hands,
test to see if she tasted stagnant,
or like spring water breaking free
after centuries underground.
I think there are times I would like to have a private avenger like that… but maybe it’s better to have the spirits as friends.
I like the test being in the taste whether it is fresh spring water or stagnant.
I hadn’t heard of the “water witch”; nice take on vengeance. Not being a strong swimmer, I’m always afraid as I swim in deep dark water.
Water witch is more of a generalised term for certain characters from folklore linked to water. I’m not a bad swimmer, but I don’t like the idea of swimming in open water. I prefer to be able to see the bottom and extent of the body of water I’m in, and to be able to see exactly what else is in it!
Seeking this kind of assistance brings great risk but also great reward. A hero(ine)’s encounter, very well told.
I love this garden dowse. Who is trancing who, and should she nurse or hearse! Such deliberations attend the making of every poem, I think.
OO LA LA! I’m looking at my little water feature quite differently now!
PS Perhaps you could send her to Washington?
Water witch is my fav. Love those last three lines!!