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.