The witches and waitresses of the Appalachians follow only one God. I have seen her on occasion carving midnight embers from her spine illuminating a divine magic found only in the season of the Gemini. She hunts by moonlight chasing the sweetest perfume of the mountains indulging in the whims of the lilacs. In my dreams she spins with the moon dancing circles βround my room. The dirt of which woman is made will be sifted in the hands of the Appalachian Woman God. And in my sleep I witness the creation of Wild Woman - a divine prophet setting the countryside ablaze in a rebellion of foxfire.