The Back Porch

Witches aren’t born ugly;

they have to become tragically powerful.

This is how I relate to those of faith,

in thinking of a child

born to a grateful mother, and a father

who took his post unwillingly,

just to remind us

that there is someone that might not think you’re good enough.

You can see a lake from the kitchen window,

the banks cluttered with wet paper,

and rookeries have fallen over like walnut shells

in a gray flourish of rain.