Autumnal Equinox 2002

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POETRY

e saw her first at nearby stream,
And heard his name in rising scream.
Omen of his nearing death,
                  She comes to harvest dying breath.

                  Now he sits before the fire,
                  Chilled by voice from demon's choir.
                  Outside he hears the banshee's wail,
                  And in his chair grows cold and pale.

                  She raps upon the window pane
                  And claws at frosted glass in vain.
                  She only begs to be let in,
                  She cries in voice grown harsh and thin.

                  Her face is streaked with bloody tears,
                  Her hair is gray with heavy years.
                  She wears about her dirty rags,
                  And carries souls in grimy bags.

                  He runs from her into the night,
                  She chases him with wild delight,
                  Embraces him against her breast,
                  And there he comes to final rest.

                  She drinks his essence as he dies,
                  And keens her pain at moonlit skies