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.