What the Sorcerer Binds Returns to the Source

Share this...
What the Sorcerer Binds Returns to the Source poem by Darlene Witte

The curse rides inside me.
I fall through black ice,
frozen, helpless, twisting.
Spine cracks,
Legs hang limp, hands grasp empty air.
Eyes stare blind, wide open to the sun
retinas are burnt, evacuated.
Hunger lives. Never dies.
Wounds ooze by day,
heal at midnight, then
bleed again at dawn.
Sleep allows no escape.
Just as my eyes close
my throat shuts
and I choke awake one more time.

(Personal Journal, DW Dec. 2018)

Darlene Witte
Darlene Witte

Professor of Education, (retired) at Johnson State College in Vermont leads the Green Mountain Writers' Poetry & Performance workshop that meets on Zoom each month on the 1st and 3rd Tuesdays at 7 PM ET. Find out more at https://www.meetup.com/green-mountain-writers

Articles: 63

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *