Midnight’s snowfall shimmers
through the boughs
of old growth
in this moonlit forest
deep and still
as if christened by star clusters
it blankets
our high-mountain meadow
in crystal down
this night
fell quiet and crisp
a great white owl
echoes
through frosted cedar
I sit by winter’s window
reading
glancing
enjoying the sparkle of moon-glow
a’dance on the frozen vista
then I see…
…what do I see
a dark form
moving at the tree line
hunched
and slow of gait
staff of some sort
seeming for balance
wing’ed creature on her shoulder
but — do I see
no shadow is cast
as if moonlight
penetrates a black vapor
unreflecting
yet still it moves
but no footprints follow
I go to the door
opening it for a better look
the movement
seems that of someone very old
and the night
very cold
concerned
I call out
“hello — are you ok”
but no answer
again I call
“hello”
at that
the figure turns my way
staring
the face
that of a weathered crone
eyes
black as midnight
deep as eternity
I begin to open my mouth
which she meets with a raised hand
and a brisk wave
just then
a stinging wind
laced with pinprick ice crystals
strikes me hard
I turn my head
step back into the doorframe
to cover my face
when again I step out
she is gone
nowhere to be seen
I call again
but no answer
she has disappeared
befuddled
I stand for a moment
dumbfounded
wondering
was she an apparition
a trick of moonlight
and shadow
on fresh snowfall
puzzled
and a bit amazed
I step back inside
into the warmth of my home
shaking my head
I return to my window seat
and gaze once more into the night
no-one is out there
no-one
but what did I see
satisfied I’ll not answer that question
at least not tonight
I sigh and settle
and resume reading
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: earthweal
The Otherworld comes close — almost inside a flicker of moon-shadow — leaving us with a feeling of a magnitude just missed. You capture that moment in the Winter Witch’s quiet passing so close to home. Well done!
Thank you very much my friend… I found you post snd prompt most inspiring Brendan… 🙂
I lived this poem the whole way – the warmth indoors, the cry of the owl, the prickly frozen feel of the cold – and her face, there, then disappeared. Wonderfully told.
Sherry, I greatly appreciate your kindness. It was a wonderful prompt and it inspired me my ftiend! 🙂
A winter Will o the Wisp. Atmospheric and engaging.
Thank you very much Paul.
I felt myself there with you, saw her through your eyes.
Thank you Kerfe, I am pleased this held you… 🙂
Truly an otherworldly poem. You have caught the mystery of the night. Those glimpses between the world can be brief.
…and fleeting! Thank you True… 🙂