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.
You must be logged in to post a comment.