8-Sided Drum: A Lyric Memoir (Prose Chapbook)
The surface swirled; wavelets glimmered in a vortex around her. She felt it first at her back, then gliding smooth around her hips, across her thighs, reaching toward her ribs. The Crone wasn’t afraid because she knew everything down here was her. Still, out of instinct, she pulled her knees into her soft belly and wrapped her wrinkled arms around them. Scaly as a snake’s skin, she thought sadly. The reptile shifted, tightening its coils against her shins, raised itself until the triangular head was level with hers and spoke. Python recited a poem titled ‘The Serpent’s Lament’ and shared the Rules of Solitude. The old woman wouldn’t remember all the details of the discussion, but it comforted her and she would take the memory of the comfort back with her to the Middle World. What she would never forget was the water’s sapphire glow and the heavy silk of the animal’s body against hers.
