The sorceress

The storyteller is pierced with an arrow
and all the hunters are gone
as if they are part of the field
and the fire has been burnt out for a long time
and the red coals
has become white and cold
and the young girl
can now only hear the wind
that twists around with the sand devils
and blows storm strong past her ears
and there’s nothing that impresses her
and the beautiful words are gone
as if the wind is blowing it away
and only the wind stays with her
and she and the wind are both alone
and there’s red sand that hits her.

[Reference: => Die towenares by Eugene N Marais.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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