The Burning

I am a woman accused of a crime I did not commit.
I have been accused of practicing witchcraft.
I do not even know what that is.
My accuser is a woman who wants everything I have.

I am only a woman who grows and uses herbs for healing.
I do not worship the devil because I am a God fearing woman.
No one believes me, everyone believes I am guilty.

I am in a cell with five other women.
No one here practices witchcraft.
We are all law-abiding landowners.
Our accusers want us dead for our land.

The day has come for me to meet my maker.
The jailer has unlocked the door.
Ten men escort us outside.
These men chain us to wooden post.

Turpentine is being poured on us.
The crowd is shouting, "burn them!"
Logs below us are set on fire.
I feel the warmth of it.

The fire is burning so hot.
My hair is starting to burn.
I can smell my flesh burning.

I see one last thing before burning alive.
I see my husband's arm around my accuser.