Tag Archives: Aurora M. Lewis

Aurora M. Lewis

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

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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.  

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Footsteps

Snatched and bound, loaded on a slaver’s ship

Spoon style in the stench of my countrymen

Sweat to sweat against our skin lost in darkness

a floating hell

* * * * *

Standing on an auction block, examined as if

livestock, my ass, my breast, exposed to the

delight of men who changed my name, leading

me away in cutting chains

* * * * *

Forced to clean his slop, cook his meals, lay

beneath his grunts and squeals, birthing children

for him to sell, trapped in this place, I will not 

forever dwell

* * * * *

Running fast into the woods, vowing no longer

to be considered his goods, open arms kept me

hidden from sight, trusting in those sympathetic

 to my plight     

* * * * *

Finding my way to freedom land, away from

a master, whip in hand, my fate now mine

on my own, no longer tethered, free to roam

______________________________________________________________________________

Aurora M. Lewis is a retiree in her late sixties, having worked in finance for 40 years.  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 The Literary Hatchet, Gemini Magazine, Persimmon TreeCliterature Journal, Jerry Jazz Musician, The Blue Nib, Pilcrow, and Dagger, to name a few.  Aurora has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes as well as The Best of the Web.  

Thanks for sharing!
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