Which Witch is Which?

A cautionary tale about serving out blind justice with the crowd

 

The year was 1600,

when Kate's place was attacked.

Her simple house was plundered,

against her odds were stacked.

'We'll burn you at the stake,'

the village people cried.

'It would be a mistake …'

Kate quietly replied.

For ten years she had healed,

men and women too.

Sick children's fates not sealed,

Kate's potions pulled them through.

Now to please their Sire,

Kate was set to die.

Lashed to a great bonfire,

'Burn the witch!' they'd cry.

Kate said, 'I've done my best,

helping when I could.'

They called, 'This is a test …

step free from burning wood …'

'To kill me you've elected,

I should have seen the signs.

It was what I expected,

I read between the lines.'

The villagers all stood,

in a circle large.

Then they lit the wood,

one reading out the charge:

'For witchcraft you must die,

you made us like you Kate.

To free your soul we'll try,

before it is too late …'

'Please,' Kate whispered then,

'I've helped you one and all,

what will you all do when,

great sickness comes to call?'

The flames licked 'round Kate's feet,

then from nearby a cry.

'From this act retreat !'

A second Kate stood by …

The villagers all looked,

from one Kate to the other.

Young children badly spooked,

held close to their mother.

The second Kate said loud,

'Extinguish now the flame.'

She stepped close to the crowd,

'or some lives I will claim.'

'Now which witch is which?'

one old woman cried.

'There wouldn't be a hitch,

if that first Kate just died.'

Even as they stared,

from young Kate to her double.

Only some folk cared,

'bout any future trouble.

Stranger than they feared,

both the Kates then screamed.

Then they disappeared,

'leastwise so it seemed …

Only one month passed,

disease began to show.

No villager would last,

no potions now … oh no …

Not one could pretend,

a bad deed they'd not done.

Two months saw the end,

of each and every one.

*

Fifty miles away,

in a town quite late.

A lady asked to stay,

she said, 'My name is Kate …'

* * *

Author's Note

I wrote this piece only a few weeks ago. Today I read Fran Marie's poem 'Burn' and I felt I had to post this tale when I realised how many witch admirers there were in our midst.

Reviews

[anne p. murray- LadeeAn..]

Absolutely amazing poem. Great flow, great rhythm, fascinating historical aspect about witch hunts. Small minded mentality for something out of the subjected "norm" of society that existed especially back then and most likely... still.
Mysterious ending would be nice to read a follow up
Indeed, I think you are a great poet

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

I had to read this one over again just to take the smooth ride of its rhythm. What a wonderful fascinating piece. Everyone should read your work Tom......what a poet!

[emmajoy]

Great meter, great poem and certainly based on facts both confirmed and suspected. The ending of course, is merely another beginning. The following two stanzas really hit the nail on the proverbial head ..

'Please,' Kate whispered then,'
I've helped you one and all,
what will you all do when,
great sickness comes to call?'

The flames licked 'round Kate's feet,
then from nearby a cry.
'From this act retreat !'
A second Kate stood by …