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Druid of the White Willow

by Sam Eliza Green 3 months ago in nature poetry

a poem

The night she painted

my bark with broken,

bloodied berries,

she foretold

a kindred

fate.

We

were divided

by roots and bones—

a blind harridan and

the willow who

cried

when

a tempest

seized its limbs

and twisted them

like waulked

wool.

She

too had been

bound and beaten,

gouged by men as

savage as

storms.

Sap and

blood descried

two women born from

divergent seeds, reared

in worlds wont of

isolation.

But that eve

beneath the glow

of the pregnant moon,

we called upon Druantia

with the chants of

our mothers

soaking

our wounds.

A chrysalis, we

were dissolved, rarefied,

reborn—The Undying Willow,

her heart beating blackberry wine.

nature poetry

Sam Eliza Green

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Sam Eliza Green
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