Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Winter Robin

So Hezbollah's special little friend (THAT WOULD BE THE EUROPEAN ROBIN) was singing his little heart out (I HEARD HIM THROUGH A CLOSED WINDOW AND ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE ROOM) and since he was singing so fine, and since he was singing so lovely I came over to the window to tell him how beautiful he sounded. It was only after I cupped my fingers against the glass to find him in the darkness I understood why he was serenading me...

...She's come back home, again.

(I've been waiting all day and night hoping She'd come back. Waiting and wanting to see the white down, wanting to see the violet skies, wanting to feel the snow under my skin to give me a reason to pull up our coffin/casket cover further up the bed until I'm sleeping beneath a blanket of other people's eternity.)

I asked the Old Woman, Whisky and Wangs night, to teach me Her magic and bring me snow that would make my tired, old heart happy. (I guess the wangs worked, then.)

(THE SECRET TO WEATHER WITCHERY DOES INVOLVE SPIRITS, BUT THE KIND YOU CAN MEASURE BY THE DRAM.) (I BET I'D GET EVEN BETTER RESULTS IF I LEFT AN OFFERING OF HEROIN. I MEAN, SHE IS //SCOTTISH//, AFTER ALL.)