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.