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Badb in the Birch Wood

Badb in the Birch Wood

Long and slender still the limbs

The Silver lady walks again

The banshee that spoke of Death

Trembling in the wind

The first breath of voice so amorous

A twinkling in her eye

The roots expand and churn the Earth

Several memories deep

To mourn in song the Bean Chaointe

Calls back across the divide

In halls of dirt and ash and bone

Immortal stories lie

A pacing wind a bitter toll call forth

The howling Dead

The Silver Lady walks again

In turn and tuck and tree

Half covered flesh that rends from bone

The memory of something Older still

That once ought be well known.

- Joey Morris 2018 All rights reserved

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