All fates are the same, it seems: whether witch or demon, rabbit or tree, the tones just tell us to
Tag Archives: poem
25- so I wrote
so I wrote in here again not for a dead woman from witch school but because I wanted to, for me, and because a
through the air
happiness follows you through the air and sometimes strangers say you find what you’re looking for by not looking; things just
rose
Of course I’ve got my rose-colored glasses on—not having running water
tonight
You wouldn’t believe I left this collection of letters unwritten in for seven years. Because you didn’t have to wait that long
go out
Maybe I’ll fake my death and write nothing else
in there
Maybe the demons would still call me young and brash for my
age
the movers and shapers of the kingdom must be the young: the witches fresh out of school so excited to
24- quiet
I meditated in a shivering desert and slept under an ozone sun, I cried in a broiling jungle and like that time when I began to train Rails–when a pressure
and stars
Perhaps someone knew that the strings of fate ran in a circle. Or maybe, like most dreams, I made up nonsense.
Jordyn Saelor 