Another Scary Poetry Month poem

The Witch of Pelican Bay

By Tracy Farr

On Tuesday,
I saw the old witch of Pelican Bay
lift a crooked finger
toward a stray dog
that just so happened to linger
a little bit too long,
digging in her garden.

In a puff of smoke,
that old witch
turned that old mutt
into an old rat,
and her old black cat
ate it whole.

She then lifted her eyes and finger toward me,
mouthed the word, “Scram,”
and since I like myself just the way I am,
I did.