Witchy Woman

A speak easy in Brooklyn

On a Tuesday night in fall.

Trying to forget the stress

That this day has caused me.

I take a swig, put down my glass

And glance around the room.

Suddenly, an energy shift,

I begin to seek the cause.

Goosebumps rise on my skin

As the air begins to change.

I sense someone near,

A powerful force.

A scent of red wine and sage.

Her hair a shade of lavender.

Crystal jewelry all over her body

Glimmers as she glides across the room.

She speaks with grace, a casual tone

As if everyone's a familiar.

Her aura is brilliant and bright,

Like a full moon in the sky on a clear night.

Who is she?

Where'd she come from?

I've never seen her here before.

She must be from out of town.

I'm flustered, but calm.

What a sight to see.

In the presence of a mystery.

She's a poem in the flesh.

When words can only

Take you so far

And the reader's left wondering,

'What's next?'.

I look away for a moment

As I order another drink.

In need of liquid courage

To try and get her name.

But as I turn around,

Again I feel a change.

I realize the moment has passed

And my head is now adrift.

She's gone, just like that.

How did I miss her leaving?

Disappeared in an instant

As if she were a ghost.

I think about her to this day.

She's a lovely memory.

Occasionally still feel her presence

As if she's never left me.