Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Man in Black II
I composed the poem Man in Black ("Know him by the crow's feather in his cap") in my head while mowing the lawn. (Such is the life of a poet who works for a living.) It is based on an exchange traditional in witch lore; at this remove of time, alas, I no longer recall where I first learned it.
When the piece had taken shape, I went for pencil and paper to write it down.
Sure enough, there in the middle of the sidewalk (I'm almost tempted to say, of course) lay the long, shiny pinion feather of a crow.
One.
Make of it what you will.
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