Waning Moon

There isn’t any time left
For baby showers
Or Tupperware parties
I haven’t any minutes to waste
On polite conversation with strangers
Have your high teas without me
Those days are over

The words I speak
Must pierce you
Must awaken a longing
For a world you haven’t seen
This is my gift…the crone’s gift
To make you uncomfortable
To squeeze your heart

And you must squeeze mine
With your glimpses into the dark
And raw innocence
So I can find you…in the after
Anything less is a waste of my time
And my moon is waning.

Oct 2019 bjb