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Queen of the Barley Fields -- poetry by Keila Sato

The first time I saw her, she was bathed

in moonlight, drifting in a sea of yellow and


I remember how the wind whipped through her flame

tipped hair, how her dress—white as the moon—caught

on the autumn breeze.

They call her the witch, that whispered wretched 

thing, the witch who dances like a harlot and 

sings sweet death, who speaks in sugar-coated tongues

and weaves men’s hearts into lightning trees. 

They say she carves prophecies into the bones

of our brothers, that only fire will drive her from 

our children, our wives.

But she is no witch, no temptress of the night,

she is a girl with pale eyes and a penchant for the



Keila Sato is a senior at Orange County School of the Arts where she is enrolled in the creative writing conservatory. She has been nominated for several writing awards at her school, and her work was recently recognized by the Writers of the Future Contest. Besides writing, she enjoys reading speculative fiction, researching obscure history, and drinking copious amounts of tea.

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