from Temazcal: The Steam House Chronicles
My mouth fell open with the recognition.
Swamp Lantern Woman had been taken over by a traveling spirit.
Her usual pale countenance took on a shimmering blue-green dancing magenta.
She declared pointedly:
Ahhh…this land is fertile; sooo fertile.
It is fertile because it feeds from below.
It sucks the spirit out of everyone.
This is why everyone ceaselessly tries to fill themselves.
There are hungry faces below the ground.
With a shift of light
and a rising cloud
the Mississippi night resumed its early Spring thrumming.
This is how I learned
even the moon
can become possessed
from time to time.
(c) 2019 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com
sound: excerpt: Glimpses of the Ways Beyond / Toward Distant Hills / Slow Paths Beyond / Andrew Lahiff