Healing and Harm

Her feet carry her where her broom cannot

The forest whose boughs she walks beneath 

is primordial and rather un-fond of Magic younger than it 

So it is that she forgoes convenience

as she treks deeper into the dark and twisted trunks 


The sound of life is distant, muffled 

Echoing from a world beyond 

She must ignore these calls 

And maintain focus on her goal: 

At the far edge of the forest

A Hamlet lies

old friends die 


Grass turns to moss 

Dirt consumed by root 

And light all but blocked 

By grasping branches interlocked 

The calls from beyond still remain 

Clawing at the concentration of a witch

who seems ever smaller 


On this path a sight nearly missed 

Purple red leaves concealed by the mist 

Her breath caught in her throat 

A very rare herb 

Her knife is out 

It cuts up the stems 

Plants lifted from loam 

Piled neatly aside 


The young one, she grins 

At the fortuitous find 

Leaves to ease pain, 

soothe the mind 


Her fingers flush with excitement 

As she bundles them up 

Finding the twisting of knots 

To be far too much 

She looked at her nails, 

saw black in the bed 



She pulls out the new leaves

Careful not to touch 

Examines each part 

As her breath becomes rough 

She saw what she fears 

A small tuft near the base 


A creature at leaf 

She knew of these things 

but thought them extinct 


Her pulse began to quicken,

she knew her time was short 


The spell came to mind, 

Incantations carefully formed 

through shaky breath 

Light coalesces at the tip of her wand 

Energy surges 

but a screech tears through the air 


The forest reaches out 

Through insect and vine 

She mutters regrets 

She can’t whisk it away 


She falls to her knees 

Vision fading at the edge 

She grabs her tattered bag 

Pouring contents on the ground 


A mortar, a pestle 

Oils, tonics, and leaves, 

A cauldron to boil 

This was all she would need 


But first a flame, one life-saving spark 

With no flint and steel, she must accept the dark 

A flame erupts

By softly whispered word 


The forest forms vengeance 

Creatures called from their hives 

To bite and to crawl

So the trees could hear her cries 

She grits her teeth through the pain 

Finishing her work 

Her vision fades

Her heart stammers and lurches 


She scoops out a vial 

Tilting her head back, fighting a gasp 

The water is scalding, 

scarring her throat

Steam released

In a stretched-thin scream


The vial falls from her grasp 

She can no longer kneel 

She falls to the ground 

Ragged gasp after ragged gasp 

Her vision goes black 

Her her body is numb 

She chokes 

She coughs 

She stops 

The forest is quiet when she opens her eyes

By Adam T. Nees

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Fleeing and Falling

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From the Deep