Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Rhysling nominated sonneteer and a Best of the Net 2020 finalist. Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna and more. She is the author of 20 books of poetry including Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir (Hedgehog Poetry Press), Flutter Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press), and Girlarium (Fahmidan Journal). She is the founder of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and co-founder of Performance Anxiety, an online poetry reading series. Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie) and her website kristingarth.com
Through her wind warped windows, the withering
witch will wave you a welcome, young weeping wench
who wanders, wuthering woods, where winged
creatures which waver will wilt like a wish,
without the wisdom of which way is which.
Weariness weds the wrinkled and weak.
Wallow a week, her window seat, fed wolffish
with wasabi —you are unwilling to wreak
the wrath of an empath wroth over waste.
Wednesday she wraps about your wee throat,
pendant, it’s whispered, is antidote. Weight
intimates the wonders, weathered hands wrote-
note wrinkled, handwringing, wobbling home.
Will it protect you when you are alone?
This sonnet is from a new collection I’m working on
about abuse, hypnosis and navigating the subconscious
mind. It’s called Empty Pendant.