It’s filled with language,
thoughts and magic
that escape like clouds
to the atmosphere.
The full moon shudders,
she knows how tragic
it is for wizards to live in fear.

In fear of what, I hear you ask,
with power at their fingertips?
Fear of fickle fingers pointing,
bramble sharp tongues
and lies on gossips’ lips.
So the spells are safely hidden
and covens are scattered far and wide

but, on a rare night that’s moonlit,
you may glimpse them as they ride
the wind and clouds,
and skim the rooftops,
peep behind closed curtains’ gaps;
accompanied only by loyal familiars,
they keep their secrets under their hats.

Kim M. Russell, 14^th March 2019

My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday Photo Prompt: Sign #writephoto