Aneyetta’s Clan

Each of us knows exactly what to do
when the village men are absent
and danger looms
within or without

Mother tutored me
Grandmother tutored her
The rules
set for three millennia
never change

Each carved symbol bespeaks a specific danger
Only we women know the meaning
Our shelters have been torched
Children have pox
Wolves plundered the winter store of venison

Much pride lies in the ease of our communication
No drums
No spurred horses
No rending of garments
Simply a red mark scratched upon a symbol

Then, Our Raven
takes wing
knowing
precisely
which flight-path is required

Good News or Bad?

After looking at this beautiful street light for quite a bit this morning, I took Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s photo prompt to a world of fantasy. Thanks, Sandra Crook, for providing the picture that stumped me for awhile.

“But they say Tassanet women can tell the future by looking at the light.” The clash of sword against sword almost drowns out Anistad’s voice.
“Auch, no. Only Auntie Rena can.”
“Look again, maybe you’ll see something this time.” Screams of pain rise above the din of battle. “We need to know!”
Petty-June stares at the glass globe until tiny white spots appear before her eyes. “Nothing!”
“Again!”
“Then you’ll leave me be?”
Battle-smoke fills the room.
A nod.
Another look. The spots grow, morph into butterflies, shape-shift into ravens and finally become a rage of brilliant red dragons.
Petty-June whispers,”They’re coming.”

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