Sunday, August 14, 2005

Black Sadie

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In the distance you hear the sound of their laughter,
Of tales told and of drink and of dance,
It lures, entices and enchants you
In to the heart of the gypsy’s night camp.

Far away from the crowd are hung blankets
a small fire burns bright on its own
Shadows of a woman are seen clear in the night
As she holds herself and she dances alone

She steps toward the light of the fire,
To reveal such a haunting, pained face
How sad is this woman called Sadie
Dancing alone in her black satin and lace

In her tent she reads cards for the strangers
As the candles burn dim on the shelf
Black Sadie sees into their futures,
She helps others but can’t save herself

The pain buried so deeply inside her
Makes her live in a world all her own
Where she feeds it and nurtures it lovingly,
She can heal it, but won’t leave it alone

She falls to the ground crying into the night
For the girl who once danced not alone,
For what she once was, before pain touched her heart
For the man, and the life she had known

Her silenced soul screams at the tools of her trade
Telling fortunes, for her, hold no place
The crystals and tarot are just symbols of fate,
Not the real, not the pain she must face

She backs once again into the shadows
Where no one can reach her dark place
She hides in the folds of her dresses
And tears soak her black satin and lace.

by Bobbi Fetterly
© 2005

6 Comments:

At 3:10 PM, Blogger Heather Blakey said...

You really do get the laureate for this piece Bobbi. It spoke to me - went right to the quick, through the marrow to the bone.
love Heather

 
At 9:07 PM, Blogger Salish & Me said...

I'm glad you liked it Heather. This was the first time I ever pulled my guts out my ear for twelve hours! I'm exhausted!

hugs,
Bobbi

 
At 2:23 AM, Blogger faucon of Sakin'el said...

You touch on some themes here that I will attempt to get Kiyan, the Gusari to address soon -- of revealing portents before Tarot cards were invented (aye, even before astrology), when people did not seek 'fortunes', but to know more of what they hide from themselves.

Such a weaving of passion here -- some of which, perhaps, a man cannot understand.

faucon

 
At 2:26 AM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

Magnificent, Bobbi - you have a place of honour at the campfire.

 
At 7:13 PM, Blogger Believer said...

Oh, Bobbi, this was just beautiful. It makes me want to know Sadie, to know her history and her future and to see her face to face.

 
At 1:57 AM, Blogger Salish & Me said...

Thank you for your lovely comments. Much to my surprise I am finding this poetry stuff as addicting as doing mosaics...lord help everyone.... ;-)

 

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