The Witch Speaks

Children were never of interest to me.

     Their antics and jabber were too much for any spell,

      white or black, to make a difference.

     Likewise the beautiful young adults, all those crowned

     or aspiring virginal princesses and their randy princes

     only made me want to turn away.

     My powers were always subtle: discrimination, taste,

     self-reflection.  I'd only burn with shame riding a broomstick,

     wearing a peaked hat, or stirring a cauldron.

     Cats though, of any color, I do mostly like.

     Their silent moves and easy grace are both good models

     for living quietly while in plain view.

     Witches are all as different as the people we live among.

     And as flawed.  But we stand apart in owning our difference

     and in our stubborn will that the world accommodate it.