Victoria Sullivan

Where I Live

The wolf seems to be walking about
in the bedroom again, just out of sight.
But I caught a glimpse from the kitchen sink
while washing dishes, and my heart
skipped a beat. No one believes me
that he’s there, but it’s either him
or a ghost, something other worldly.
And last night the storm drove
the rain onto the porch where I slept.
It was Noah’s flood. See my cottage is
magic. The cars around here belong
to batman The trees tell wicked stories in
whispers. The leaves dance and return
at night to their former goddess selves.

When the moon is full it is almost
too stunningly bright, awash in moonlight.

No need to dream at night. I am visited
by invisible forces–spirits if you will–
guarded by dark deities, adored by demons.
I welcome them all. Life is so much richer
when they swirl about. Then the air is full
of mercy, and I am deeply blessed.

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