THE WEAVE:

Venus and Medusa

look out on snow falling

over the island…

"I'm bored," Venus says.

"How about a Fire?"
Medusa suggest.

"How about a party?" 
Venus bunts it back.

"Where's Persephone?"
Medusa asks.

"I dunno, she said
she was not coming 
to the Underworld,
this year," A bored
Venus yawns.

"But why ever not?" 
Athena asks,
"It is the season," 
almost offended,
definitely perplexed.

Venus shrugs,
"She is just
tired of it."

"Well, we are
not in the Underworld
-Where exactly are we?
Let's summon her
Here," Medusa insists.

"It's not polite to 
summon people, without 
consent, Medusa.  Besides
she won't come by Water
Way.  You'd need a fresh 
Tale," Venus casually
states, eyes bored, 
and gazing away, 
but her eyebrow quakes.

"It's easy, 
to trap Persephone,"
Athena challenges,
"All it takes is a
field of dew-sprung 
grass, and a crocus.
I can weave,
a Tale like that."

"Hooked," Venus' Fire
whispers, inside of her 
being, but she masters her
expression, as she turns
to Athena,  "It is 
unhealthy, to trap people 
into being with you, Athena."

"She doesn't have to
pick the flower," Athena
parries, "It's a choice."

Medusa pipes up,
from where she is 
gazing into her newly
braided scrying bowl,
"Persephone does not
pick flowers, anymore.
The last time Persephone
picked flowers, it was for
Pluto, in an August.
She carried a bucket 
with a few inches of water,
and a pair of scissors,
around her mother's garden.
She arranged them, 
with a kenzan she brought
home from where he lived;
A frog prong, to pierce
the stems, and manipulate
the flowers in space.
Persephone does not
pick flowers, anymore.  
She lets them live out
their own destinies."

Athena observes Medusa,
listening, with
her arms crossed, "Well,
how does One
catch a Persephone then?"

"Construct an intriguing
Opening, out from which 
flowers come circling,"
Medusa breaks her gaze
a-way, Now clear,
and certain.

"Fine," 
Athena drops the fabric
on the floor, 
"You do it."