By Nightfall, a Pile of Rocks, in a Clearing
I still don’t understand why.
The birds began to sing some time ago, when the first light cracked the darkness. I sit alone with so many questions.
Was I unkind?
Was I so very strange to them?
Why did the others go along?
Is love some kind of enchantment? I did not encourage his attentions. Nothing for me to gain. And now I have lost everything.
I hear movement on the road. A horse and wagon. Voices in the distance. A shout.
Will they let the girls watch? Will he be there? Will a crowd stand and pray that I will end their troubles, as they end mine?
I have only helped. I have healed. I have worked.
And yet they accuse me.
They killed my dog. They called him the devil. And then they came for me.
They called that a trial and yet left so many questions unanswered.
The girls pointed at me, and the others believed.
They are coming now. I hear them. Soon the door will open, and the weak light of dawn will shine full on me. They will bind my hands. They will follow the cart, spitting, hurling their own forgivable curses. They call me a witch, yet do not hold themselves accountable for their own actions against the word of god.
Will I be afraid then? I am a little afraid now.
The stones will press.
I will take one last breath.
And that will be all.