The Witch’s Call
"But if children sing, they sing no longer:
Where's the Witch, black as pitch?
Here's the black, wicked Witch.
Ha! ha! ha!"
The Tin Drum
I saw a boy running through the wood
past brush and weeds...
He stopped and stood a time--
to watch a wand of flashing black
reach the narrow creek
as if he'd sent it back,
or was a silent border there
that only he could cross?
Past brush and wood
he stopped and stood
to watch and wait for what?
For by how he stood--
with fear or resignation,
towards what he knew
or did not know
he stood for what was there.
And as I past,
still he stood
just past wand and wood
beyond the Witch's call.
Lansing, Michigan
November, 1979
Up North Series
©1979 The Witch’s Call — Joseph W. Yarbrough
Reproduction prohibited without written permission.