night sky – barley lit by a thin crescent moon
ink black and alive with sound
a deep darkness hugged the ground under the thick canopy of full summer trees
mist lingered brushing the tips of tall rich grasses
grasses swayed – mist swirled
disturbed by the lone woman – clad in tattered layers
this was her time – night time – moon time – dark
the mist hung to her form as she appeared to float from the trees into the clearing
the boy laid near the centre – yet he was not there
his journey was in the inner realm
he would struggle
he would cry
he fought
she watched over his journey – a silent guardian
this was something he needed to face alone
a strangled sob escaped his form
sparks – dancing fae drew close
imps curious – drawn by the raw magic
they surrounded the boy – dancing on moon beams
the hag – noticing the father – ushered him away – sent him back to the shadows
somewhere a wolf howled – calling to his mate
as the thin moon circled low atop the tree line
night relinquished its hold upon the forest – a pink light grew in the sky
it was time for travellers to return from the inner realm
the boy stirred
the hag knelt by his side
offered him water – laced with herbs
he shook – he trembled – he cried
hung his head and wept – the painful truth laid naked
he killed the guardian did he not
my own father
the father of the guardian
as the sun rose early upon that midsummer morn
it lit the path before the boy
the guardian reborn
Anne Harrison 21.06.17
Tatterhood 