The Crone’s Sonnet

“The time has come,” she said, “for reckoning,”
Her Cronish finger bent in beckoning.
“For centuries you’ve brought forth salty waters-
Tears and fears from those who are my daughters.
Now feel the sad confusion and the fear
Of never knowing when the danger’s near.
Say, can you feel that cold, insistent finger-
How, trailing dread, it moves so slow and lingers?
Now that you, too, know it, howl and whine
About how all this is unfair, unkind.
We’ll listen, all my daughters, sisters, too,
And watch some of you grow a heart–some few.
Perhaps if you will learn some empathy
In these dark days we’ll all find harmony.”


About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Poetry, sex, Sonnet, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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