The woman held a mirror
in her shaking hands
and saw the black-haired
witch of night. She heard
spells of courage and
death. She felt her fingertips
grow cold, as if she had ridden
long on a winter’s day, gripping
the reins of a galloping horse
until its hooves clattered
on cobblestones. When she
strode into the hall, everyone
was silent and afraid. She
rode the river of storm.
Her words were stars of leaded
glass. Wherever she walked,
shadows flooded the floor.
Sailors blessed themselves
and crumbled bread before the sea
could take them home again.
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