My early sister

i wonder what they did to her

my early sister

when they found her by the riverside

with her broad mouth

(that red mouth that pulled the hungry eyes

of the brown clothed men for its brave colour

and brought the ice into the women's eyes

for its daring bravery.)

stretched wide in concentration 

and swelling with a whistling laughter

while she watched with her bright eyes

and her hair loose and dancing in the wind

it was the women who found her

of course,

coming over the hill in their tight groups

with their heavy loads on their wide hips

and their quick sharp tongues keeping pace

with their eyes

they saw her with her willowy fingers

that though they worked as hard as theirs

stayed smooth and slender

they saw her coaxing with her lush lips

tweaking the twig as it twisted in her hand

they saw her drag it through the water

and with her careful breath send it swelling

into something....other

(later one of the young girls

who remembered whispered to her playmate

that it was beautiful, this strange thing

and that it looked like rainbows all wrapped

against each other before the disappeared)

the women sniffed and whispered and gasped

sent one of the children back for the men

and then descended

their years of packed-dirt envy sharpening their tongues

their hands outstretched like the claws they always told each other

(in whispers)that she had in the dark of moon

grabbed tight of her with their cutting hands

and dragged her screeching

(oh the pride of the lionesses bringing their prey

their foe to ground

one wonders what the doe ever did to them)

they told the waiting men, out of breath and bemused,

in no uncertain terms what the crime and punishment would be

acting in one voice as judge and jury

striking while the men gathered confused

reminding them of their places, of their wives

and, in the face of their wrath, their miserable lives

i wonder what they did to my early sister

with their faces so twisted and bitter

standing there beneath the spreading oak

but the rest of the story is lost in smoke

they called her a witch

for her crime

of mixing her water and soap

and making a picture of hope