The old cabin sits
nearly hidden
high on a Ridge
overlooking a lake..
there are no roads
only paths
made by deer
and a woman
called Katiedid.
they say
she left home
30 years ago
wouldn’t go back..
lived off the streets.
her grandma Lydia
died in this cabin.
in Late Autumn
Katiedid can be seen
walking from town
carring a blanket
a frying pan
a fishng pole
and suitecase..
throughout the summer
i’m told she prefers
to sleep beneith
the 6th street bridge.
Once winter sets in
smoke will be seen
from across the lake.
if you get close enough
you can smell
fresh fish frying
and sassifrass tea…
strangers leave
fine cloths
fresh fruit
milk and bread
on sunday mornings…
with notes
inviting her
to church..
as she hides
in the attic…

~ by connetta on June 29, 2014.

2 Responses to “Katiedid…”

  1. A touch of mysticism. Such is how the legend of Katiedid was born: eyes watching from the attic, whispers in the wind, smoke mingling with the mist.
    A cabin, haunted by the living, must be experienced.

  2. Sweet.

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