Susan Settlemyre Williams Lament, With High Wind Moses had seen the Burning Bush. Solomon by magic knowed all wisdom. And Marie Leveau was a woman in New Orleans.    — Zora Neale Hurston The snake left me last night. I went for dirt from the cemetery, and the wind had tossed all the flowers into the street. It was a pretty thing when the snake flicked its tongue and called me. Marie. You were born to power. It was lying on my pillow; it could have been my lover, so I believed it. Not love. Young like me, slender, just the first rattle on its tail. It never shook its dice at me except to warn of danger. I've saved every one of its outgrown skins. I found a two-headed doctor to teach me. He told me, fast naked on a snakeskin; and while my soul walked, I grew my second head. A sun through my forehead, shining. Three days I starved. I came to the Spirit across fire and pain and running water. Then the doctor crowned me in the swamp, with white candles, and a black ram died to carry my prayer to the Spirit. When clients come, I go alone to my altar with the snake to pray until I become a flute for the Spirit. Write the name nine times, it croons with my lips, take the Damnation Powders and sprinkle them. Dig a hole. Dress black candles in vinegar for the curse. Nine black chickens with their heads torn off. Burn the feathers. I teach them to bring their enemies down with blue candles. I give them treated string to hold their lovers true. Some that I curse would rather die. One thing: because of the manner I was called, I never use the power to bind men to me or send them away. I don't mess with pink love candles. At the feast on St. John's Eve last year, I called that boy to study with me. He's learned nearly enough now. The snake has grown thick as a cypress and covers my altar with its coils. Last night it refused its food and began to sing. Shrill old wind among the gravestones: Teach the boy quickly. This morning as the wind was starting, I stuffed the empty hide with herbs of power and saved my tears in a red bottle. All day I've prayed while the wind rises. For three days I will fast too and sing up the waters and lightning and wind and I'll be raised up like a black wing. The boy will have the snake's last skin.

---