The witch is with child

Christina Hennemann

and the hare comes for the blessing,

but the women shriek, it’s a curse,

until the witch tears the hem

of her dress. Long ago, when the wizard

died, the witch’s mother could not

set foot on the graveyard. The witch stayed

behind the fence, Celtic cross

cutting skies, and held her mother’s

hand. The day after, the witch’s sister

was born. From a cup of water

with a worm the witch

conceived. The women bring fish

brains for the witch to soften

the pains of labour, but the baby

pushes with devil horns. The witch

cannot hold it. Whitsuntide

child arrives, and the women

cry, scurry away to lure

a worm from the earth. The witch

clamshells the baby’s fist open. The women

wriggle the worm inside. A squeeze,

and the curse breaks. Whitsuntide

child fulfils the prophecy: a killing,

an offering for the God the witch does not

know.

CHRISTINA HENNEMANN is an award-winning poet and writer. She’s the author of three poetry chapbooks and her debut collection, Birthmark, is forthcoming with Shearsman in October 2025. Her work appears in Poetry Ireland, Poetry Wales, Southword, Anthropocene, Dust Poetry, and elsewhere.

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