Coven Verse is a new Sunday night series on Little Red Tarot, sharing witchy and magical poetry from our community and beyond. Want to submit a poem? Send it – along with a brief bio (optional) – to email@example.com
Two untitled poems
Death sits on the head of a raven
on the prow of a hill
in the belly of the solstice sun.
My lips are caked with the blood
of fake joy –
I kiss my children.
Today I dance with the bleached
skeleton of a great bear
She is held upright
by my own fear and darkness
She is guardian
She is a tease
She licks my cunt
my souls cradle
Hello, I’m Marylou. For my 40th birthday this year I went out to sit on the edge between our croft and the neighboring conifer plantation. I let my soul get caught up in the pine needle mulch. A beautiful fox found me writing in my journal about The Patriarchy. I’m still finding strength and joy from this brief and gentle encounter.