Come Kali

Her dark lips
grasping
blood tongue
lapping
swallowing
one tower
whole

then the other

comes Kali.

Fire licks
the steel sticks
free of ants
free of souls
oh, comes Kali.

Her black arms
sweep through
Babel’s streets
plucking children, screaming
to Her breast
the Great Mother suckles us
breathless.

[Shannon Connor Winward’s writing has appeared in many venues including: Pedestal Magazine, Flash Fiction Online, Strange Horizons, Illumen, This Modern Writer [Pank Magazine],the Witches and Pagans Magazine and Sagewoman subscriber’s newsletters, and the anthologies Twisted Fairy Tales: Volume Two (Wicked East Press), Jack-o’-Spec: Tales of Halloween and Fantasy (Raven Electrik Ink) and Spec-tacular: Fantasy Favorites from Raven Electrick Ink.  Her poem, “All Souls’ Day” has been nominated for a 2012 Rhysling Award.  To read her accounts of writing, witchery, mommyhood, and general sassiness, stop by her blog.]

Leave a comment