The Witch Doctor

They say she opens her legs easily
She with bangles and brooches and full brown curls
But they say other things too
They laugh at her headscarf and bare arms
They mock her long painted fingernails
And her stomach that has and will never be flat.
The witch doctor
With her thin lips and shadowed eyes.
The witch doctor
Sunning herself on her porch in the afternoon
Hiding her face beneath a floppy corn hat
And smiling as she watches the children play.
Can you see the way her lashes
Lower ever so gently when you approach her
And ask to buy a charm
Or the way that her cheeks flush with pleasure
If you so much as brush her hand
With your fingers.
They say a lot of things about her
But I don’t believe them.
I think that she’s just lonely
And wants to sell her herbs
And jewelry and wind chimes
Things that she makes with her own hands
So that she can be proud of her trinkets
Because other people are proud of them
People say a lot of things
But when she smiles
I know I can’t believe them.

-Lauren Hatch
May 7, 2007