it was tucked away in the quiet backstreets of the old city
an apothecary shop, vibrant dried plants in clear glass bottles
books of spells and healing, culpeper's herbal, cobalt bottles and tinctures
old parchments, a wizened shop keeper, clay figurines
smells of leather and leaf, beeswax and flame
in the front window, a large astrological dial
she paused at the door, her heart loud
she could feel it rising up, a remembering
a something stronger than a dream
that she was moving toward,
her hand on the brass door knob
and the waft of opening, inside, as she entered
