Monday, November 17, 2025

"The Party" by Anne Fox

 

The Party

Sometimes
I smell brimstone
Great grandmother's violets
Lilies over rotting flesh
They come for me
All the mothers and fathers
Embrace me in a golden light
Grandmother's song
Rose-soap-scented surrounds me
I see them
In dreams
Behind the helms of starships
Heading for the unknown
I glimpse them
Wandering in crowds
Lost without eyes
Laughing
They beckon me to the party
I feel found
Seen clearly again
By this mist

~

Anne Fox, considered a witch-child from birth, is an off-planet soul doing psychopomp work behind the scenes for our dying civilization.

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