Nineteen women, one man, held trial by hysteria, hearsay and ‘nonconformity’! Not much has changed!
It’s the spring of 1692 in Salem, Massachusetts. You’ve just been accused by “an afflicted girl” of being a witch. The reason for the accusation against you might have been any from a long list of possibilities. Perhaps you’re reclusive, talk to yourself, or exhibit some other form of eccentric behavior. Perhaps you were involved in a previous dispute with the family of the afflicted girl. Perhaps you don’t go to church, or go to the wrong church, or sided with the wrong faction in recent congregational strife within the Salem Village Church. Perhaps you speak French or are suspected with having aided the Wabanakis in the recent Indian wars. Or perhaps you expressed support for a recently accused witch or–worse yet–accused the accusers of lying. Whatever the reason, you’re in big trouble now. What do you do? (Pick an option below).
- flee Salem
- Accuse someone else
- Get pregnant
- Confess, though, innocent
- Plead innocent and stand trial
- Refuse to stand and face dire consequences
Dancing in Wooden Shoes
Everything had been black and white.
Just as bleak and blank, as the tall tales we dispose.
Nothing so austere, as the languishing of our past…a memoir of we would soon…rather forget.
What is the character we want to be?
A thundering look over a chipped shoulder…to the masters, gives hint to all that we are pageantry.
I feel cut down from the gallows.
Clogged with raven’s feet in tow.
Abigail, Sarah, Martha…it is all for show.
As of yesteryear, the wicked have found no rest.
As of now,…the wicked have swollen in the cloaked mess.
Spired gables…engrossed in mass hysteria.
All in the name of labels.
No, angels to see.
Just ruminations of you and me.