So much to do today, to write...
To work the witch's wake.
To stir the steam of leaky stew
Takes lifetimes, takes a steak.
Blood red of little women found:
Shades of tastes of me.
These two build battlefields before
They slip to shining sea.
Yet much left until supper time.
With ladle wand in hand,
Her dancing conjures cauldron's depths,
The reek of free human.
She shares to tell to make it so
And watch in telling all she grows,
In part the audience, she knows,
Determines hints of her rainbow.
So let it settle, let it stew,
Invocateur and judge are two
In one, who pulls my taste from me
Into the peaks and wet valleys,
Where tangled toes trip to tip tops
And tipping toward the open spots
Will let me fall and fly and free...
So much to do today, to be.