The Healer's Curse

A blind woman sits upon old cypress knees

Singing her lonely song

Gators gliding by tupelo trees

Waiting to right a wrong

Sitting there sobbing for centuries

Her black hair; six feet long

She was a “traiteur,” meaning a healer

Living in her humble shack

Folks on the bayou acclaimed this feeler

Restoring their health of lack

Till her meet, one wheeler and dealer

Who traded her gifts for black

...

Two miles deep in the swamp

Where it is always ninety degrees

Lives a woman who never grows old

But her earnest spirit has gone cold

She lost her eyes and all her decrees

From a curse on a coin

She never will rejoin

But the devil always does what he, please

...

He was a tall, dark, and handsome guy

With quickly failing sight

The ponds of peas were his last try

He found her home at night

Greeting him, she begged, “Please don’t cry

I will fix you up just right.”

She boiled him a pot of special tea

It was a homemade brew

These were the days when she could see

And her skin; soft as dew

He thanked her, “taking time to help me.”

Sipping the tisane through

...

Two miles deep in the swamp

Where it is always ninety degrees

Lives a woman who never grows old

But her earnest spirit has gone cold

She lost her eyes and all her decrees

From a curse on a coin

She never will rejoin

But the devil always does what he, please

...

From his pocket, he withdrew one rare coin

Worth twenty thousand cash

Understanding her needs, her word; “besoin.”

His intentions were not rash

Yet he kept hidden the money’s purloin

So she put it with her stash

At the stroke of midnight, with her healing hands

Guided by a little black book

She placed her fingers on his tarsal glands

Noting how his eyelids shook

Her chanting from tomes; released tears to sands

She knew the treatment took

The handsome man‘s eyes were shining bright

Vision as good as gold

The pair laughed until dawn’s first light

But the swamp air; oddly cold

A sudden shiver disrupting her pure delight

Revealing cards untold

It turns out more than a healing

was just bought and sold

...

Two miles deep in the swamp

Where it is always ninety degrees

Lives a woman who never grows old

But her earnest spirit has gone cold

She lost her eyes and all her decrees

From a curse on a coin

She never will rejoin

But the devil always does what he, please

And the devil did it all with ease