"Transformation of the Rule-Broken", patron poem
All those years in water, now when wet

I'm wood-grained. I came out

dark swirled, flesh shivered off -

but only a skin that didn't fit.

What else is witchcraft?

Sweat like burnt coffee. Hair.

Speaking in a voice not your own;

until it is, until you have become.

Flesh becomes timber.

Crow becomes bear.


Photo credit: cropped from flickr user funeralbell