old wives tale
Winter still visits Spring; I strove
to start a fire in the wood stove
of dank pine and a piece of oak
giving a flicker of flame and smoke
so I let it be with a fervent hope
pondering poetic devices for a poem
of old wives tales and their scope
one worthy of adding to my tome
my black cat joined me in con-
templation snuggling between
my legs and I dozed for a time;
dreams ebbed and flowed -
hairs pricked up upon my neck
goosebumps up and down my
spine; I could see something
walking over my grave - my
headstone shining spectrally
in the starry dim-lit moonless
night. my cat arched his back
hissing a direful warning as
a shade advanced upon us -
standing my ground with my
cat twixt my feet still hissing
enjoining us to flee yet I tarried
and faced the shade as it began
its soliloquy: "YOU are the abom-
ination here, you and your fam-
iliar who left this mortal coil
uncounted years ago; what is
this witchery which brings you
to my sphere - BEGONE !"
I awoke
clammy, but grateful 'twas only
a dream
18° C in the room
where I had reclined
the wood stove having
given up on burning
the dank pine
now where was I ?
4/16/2026
Ta! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor


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