On The Road Home

*Written for day 6 of the PAD challenge...on de Goya's "Flight of the Witches."

how soon before they would shift
back to their familiar shapes, the

carrion crow, the cat, the snake
writhing around the stump of a

tree he had hoped to safely sleep
beside until the dawn broken

like the shell of an egg held
in her hand, cracked

against the rim of a teacup, the
kettle singing atop the fire

now this whirlwind of flesh about
his head, and he only wanting

to be home in his own bed,
unmolested by spirits, his wife

whispering, telling her beads,
ten by ten, ivorywhite, her hands

in his, later, murmuring a
morning prayer, her lips pressed to his