Tuesday, 6th April The Crone's Lament

The Crone's Lament

Prophecy is a baleful curse.
What is the wisdom of tomorrow?

Already, a fat, hot pig in a poke,
a cow slung astride the moon;

in the nursery tears and grim despair
for the dish and the spoon are long parted;

the owl lost his life to save the cat
that anyway sank like a stone.

The dame has skinned and butchered the babes
she dandled, crooned and cradled;

in the great black pot she brews the bones
that whistle and simmer and hiss.

Here's a good rich stock for tomorrow's stew -
and Polly has promised us dumplings;

then the devil comes to dip his spoon
where the sweet fat pools and gleams.