After The Wicker Man

“Animals are fine, but their acceptability is limited. A small child
is even better, but not nearly as effective as the right kind of adult.”
— Lord Summerisle, The Wicker Man (1973)

Come! Drag him in.
Come, leave him there.
Come, lock the wicker door behind. 
Don’t heed the lows,
don’t hear the bleats, 
don’t listen to the cries he makes. 
We offer him, 
we offer stock,
with flame,
with song,
with island rites. 
Billows the smoke, 
bellows the man, 
below him rise the growing sparks, 
Free willed he came to lay the law, 
pure in body, foolish man. 
See him shimmer through the wicker, 
a pale white flailing in the heat. 
Sing, sway, hear him pray,
watch the burning swallow him. 
It’s him we offer to the island
in hopes of harvests once again. 
Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!
While he burns and turns to luck 
for future fare.

[Juleigh Howard-Hobson’s words have appeared in Faerie Magazine, Enchanted Conversation, The Dead Lands, Witch House, From the Roaring Deep (Bibliotheca Alexandria), Teacakes and Tarot (Spell Jar Press), Under Her Skin (Black Spot) and many other places. Her latest book is Curses, Black Spells and Hexes (Alien Buddha). She lives in a suitably haunted house and follows the old ways.  Bluesky: @juleigh.bsky.social   X:  @poetforest]