We Are Witches (Incomplete)

 the pot on the stove

with a mix of cinnamon and zest 

could have been a brew

from our witchy past

I smell it still when 

as the days start to fall

the nights gather power 

the wolves sound their call

I recall its spell when 

as my soft roundness scrapes

against edges meant for points 

I long to escape 

we are witches made tame

how I wish to return

to times when we were wild

when we knew, no need to learn

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~ Meegs