Walpurgisnacht

(30 April)

 

Eve of a saint’s day and

 

Something to do with

Witches and with German

Witches, I imagine—the

Good kind of witch, I’m

Sure

 

Not Charmed witches,

‘Cause they were silly

(After three seasons,

Anyway) nor the crones

With noses whose hooks

Could hold pots, so badly

Were they drawn

 

Maybe that’s why,

Starting at dawn, the

Television plays episodes

Of (so-called) real

Mysteries

 

Because tonight good

Witches are dancing in

Dark bulls’-eyed circled

Places with what light

They might extract from

The sentinel moon

 

Under which their sinews

Slide in pace to music

Unheard

 

Beseeching sky and earth

And fire with water held

In fashioned vessels

 

To love the world and

Give their healing magic

Potency to break feverish

Ills that make corrupting

 

Sickness of what men

Catch and spread when

Dealing in the day

 

 

Harz witch in front of the fire

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