Xyla

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic


A poem about perinatal and postpartum depression written in an allegory of the Crone

Submitted: August 15, 2018

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Submitted: August 15, 2018

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Somewhere between Candlemas and Hallowmas I lost myself in the darkness of the Wood on my way to visit the Crone. I wandered with terror woven through my braid and down my back where it settled in the darkness of my womb. In a maddening quest to find a cottage that never stays put. Agony and despair cloaked me as I made camp once again beneath a coniferous canopy that blacks out even my lunar lifeline. I dreamt of a rainy Solstice on Michigan shores with roaring waves of feminine sorrow. It was a white raven who led me from the Wood in the early morning hours of Hallowmas. The Crone was met with bitter Angelica tea and long dead lavender.  And a daughter.


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