Biting wolves take their meat when they can get it make no apologies. Carnivores of the woods devour the scent my shadow brings. To the fertile dark I ask what of my anger? and gnash my teeth against the blackness. To my ears she whispers take an oath to trust the shivers and the quivers … Continue reading In the dark
Author: Angela
Fall
Fall towards yourself look inward dark comes earlier. Fall behind who cares take more time slow down step into yourself. Bones chilled fingers numb head in hat sit with the world around you. Fall over no one is watching pick yourself back up lace up your boots tell it to the squirrels, cows, chickadees, a … Continue reading Fall
Made of ink
Writing is in my bones my platelets made of words. I write with the pens that are my fingers waving sigils in the air. I write with the pens that are my fingers; each finger long bones hollowed out the ink flows through inspired by the guidance by the stories my body holds.
Bone writing
Fingers like twisted branches reach for a pen to write about the lines that fold around her gnarled knuckles dry with age from holding onto stories too long her forearms rest heavy on the smooth white pages of bark as she writes her story with ink made of dirt; lines of language.
The lantern
The bridge was here when I bought the place arching slightly ever so slightly enough to rise above the fall rains. The path to the back of my property gets steeper every year eroded over time and rainfall. The cows won’t quit complaining tonight, every night the crickets never let up hissrattleshatterscreachbuzz my lantern bobs … Continue reading The lantern
Fall balance
It is the Autumn Equinox, a few days past the Harvest Moon and the witch’s Thanksgiving, Mabon; the Singing Moon. Whatever you name it, the time is now that we are halfway between summer and winter when darkness emerges from the Shadows extending a hand to greet the end of light. Taking the baton, Shadow … Continue reading Fall balance
Home-ing
Home is where you always are no matter what the weather or who the bartender is. Home is always inside you; you don’t need an apartment but you’ll be more comfortable that way. Look for your skeleton keys (you dropped them on the driveway) and pull away the curtain so your shadow can see the … Continue reading Home-ing
Angela Mason 