Black Wind

by Rose Flint

There are nights that pluck at me
like witch-fingers, blood-sisters

I walk restlessly round the room
drink too much, tease, scold, scorn

I may tear something apart – tarot cards or flowers
but my hands are capable of crushing steel and bone

These are the nights when the black wind
flicks stars through the trees like elf-shot

when the black wind glides under my eyelids
so I own night-sight, am cat on the tiles

These are the nights when women shapeshift
fly and alight on a whim like a succubus

naked breasts cold as water, their hair
curled into snakes or spiked raven wings

These are the nights when everything cages me:
your gentleness, our love, the spaces between us

These are the nights, these nights of black wind
when you are best absent, your door closed

while I stay alone with my mirror sisters
watching the wind, the wild moon in my hand.

©Rose Flint

Rose Flint

Rose Flint

Rose Flint is a Priestess of Avalon, a poet and art therapist. She teaches Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes at Bristol University and works as a writer in healthcare in the hospital and community of Salisbury.
Winner of numerous  awards for poetry including the Cardiff International Poetry Competition, she has four collections. Her first was Blue Horse of Morning (Seren) followed by Firesigns (Poetry Salzburg) which uses the Wheel of the Year to frame poems that move through the brightness and potential of Imbolc, to the fire of Beltane and the thoughtfulness of Lammas into the ancestral places of Samhain, and beyond.
Nekyia (Stride) is an extended meditation on the changes that time makes to a a woman, to a marriage, to land. Taking the form of a quest the poems move through an inner, spiritual journey.
Mother of Pearl (PSAvalon) contains poems in praise of the Goddess, mothers and daughters, witches, healers - and always Grandmother Earth.
Rose Flint

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