24 Sep 2019

We Are 138 #37 - The Night Witch

The night witch puts on her striped sunset stockings, black cloak of night sky, trimmed with brilliant starlight and fastened with a clasp of crescent moon. The smell of cooling earth clings to her skirts, wrapped into each inky fold.

Her neck, a curve of comet’s tail, swept behind the clouds where a passing satellite sits. It’s caught as a silver trinket for her to wear, orbiting her porcelain collar bones.

Dew drops hang from her ears, their multi facets glinting as her head turns, casting sparks of light and soft shadows.

She throws out stars from her pockets, bidding me to climb them and rest a while upon the moon. We sit and sing lullabies to the passing clouds, watching them puffing out cheeks and curling under toes, their dreams sketching chalky shapes across the blackboard sky.


Lisa Johnston is an observer and describer of the everyday. Susceptible to daydreaming, cloud watching and flower sniffing.

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