Festival

Over there
they’ve just done Beltane,
the Rites of Spring.
Here, we had Samhain –
autumnal, dark.

There were two Beltanes
for me one year,
the year I travelled
to that country:
visiting poet.

There I met poets,
there I met witches;
both were my kin,
both embraced me,
and Spring was sweet!

I shared Beltane
with a new coven
in West Texas.
A coyote howled
from the near desert.

The High Priestess
my soul sister
played guitar and sang.
We spoke poems.
The wind swirled loud.

Back at home
the night of the dead
went on without me.
This time, that Spring
is ghost at the feast.


Now that the April Poem A Day challenge is over, Robert Lee Brewer on Poetic Asides is giving us a series of "Wednesday prompts". This first one is: Spring.