I had my own ways, spirts and chants to see me through Until them girls, both named Sarah wanted to learn what I do I showed ‘em how to dance by the light of the moon, my conjuring and hexing, watched them bloom, folks said I was beguiling the Sarahs and other girls, a slave, bringing Satan to their Christian world, their Bible say they shall not suffer a witch to live, our lives we would surly have to give The Sarahs and me was put on trial, accusing others to save my hide, told of black dogs, birds, hogs, even a broom stick I’d ride, said one of them Sarahs had a demon creature of her own, head of a woman, two legs and wings, turning folks to stone, all this I said not to seal my fate and be hung I told them it was the Sarahs who made me do evil things Seeing as I was a slave with no power of my own that it brings They hung the Sarahs, sent me to jail, then one day let me out sold to another cause my master wouldn’t pay my jailhouse fee I died a slave and the witch was me
Aurora M. Lewis s a woman of color in late sixties, retired from the Banking Industry. In her fifties, she received a Certificate in Creative Writing General Studies with Honors from UCLA. Her poems, short stories, and nonfiction have been accepted by Gemini Magazine, The Literary Hatchet, Jerry Jazz Musician, Persimmon Tree Magazine, The Copperfield Review, Lucent Dreams, The Blue Nib, Trembling in Fear, and others. Aurora has been nominate for two Pushcart Prizes and The Best of the Web.