STORIES

STORIES   I heard you say unpleasant things About the old woman who lives alone In the last hut on the way to the stream You criticize what you know not And wrong the aged and the weak Be careful with what you say Believe not all the stories you hear   You say she killed all her children And ate the rest in her womb What innocent blood was spilled The story of a witch goes around Who turns into altered birds of prey And traverses the regular nightly flights With flakes of fire in drapes and hues   Believe not all the stories you hear Barren she may be, but her children She ate not, others died of innate causes Confuse not the scary sound of the owl To mean a woman changing into a bird Look at the reflecting eyes in the mirror Night dreams break into hallucinating day