Malcolm E Wright

The Sand Witch

I put myself into a trance,
and in my head
the butterflies began to dance,
but what I said
could not truly the dream enhance.

The sand witch came with the thunder,
riding the surf.
The mad bitch filled me with wonder.
For what it's worth,
she held me as we sank under.

Drowning, we walked back to the beach,
holding hands,
and patterns she and I each
drew in the sand.
I tried to grasp what she would teach.

Stars in her eyes were twinkling.
This dark beauty
at last gave me an inkling
of my duty.
Through her fingers the sand was sprinkling.

She made me eat the dirty earth,
and gave me words
that flooded my poetic dearth.
It was absurd,
but I rejoiced at my rebirth.