Spirits Roam When the Moon Winks

by Susan Scott
Deep in Sierra Leone bush
night sky swallows stars
as New Moon rises.
Blind talisman
wears an inky coat,
musty mix of too-hot peppers,
cassava leaf drowned in palm oil,
flames of three-stone fires.

Darkness whispers
thrums and hums,
bats click, owls whistle
petals embrace, then sigh.
Mothers chant
lore to dreaming children,
the Gaboon Viper sways
like rice-full waters,
hunts the river’s wale
fangs spitting venom.

We follow contours
worn by bare feet,
plume a smoke of laterite
at the water’s edge,
conjure souls of animists,
return our lost talisman
night in full light.
Susan Scott is a retired GED mathematics instructor. She lives a nomadic existence, counting three continents, four countries and ten states as home. She is still waiting to stop somewhere.


© 2018, Susan Scott