The levitation of a spell.

In a world of
spell casting, love philtres,
she who sees the road
against the course of the sun
does not see the mildew
and blight she covers.
With broom in hand
at the throttle she flies
where the levitation of a spell
lies within the crystal ball
that foretells tomorrow’s ritual.
But there is no magic
in this incantation
just a possession for the future -
the original hunger for wisdom.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I love your title & how you use it in your poem. I love the way the opening is attention-grabbing: "a world of spell casting" (provoking the possibilities spilling from reader's mind). Love this idea -- witch flying above on broom "does not see the mildew & blight" below. Love how your msg teeters on the edge of being spooky & surreal, yet also leaving us with a nugget of profundity! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie