ALL SOULS: THE WITCH
~The Kilkenny Book of Hours, c. 1410
Outside, a half moon, waning.
Inside she sits by the fire,
gray cat on her lap.
Her clothes are unremarkable
and her long gray hair is unbound
and mingles with the cat’s fur.
On the plain table, a wooden
bowl of apples. Garlic
and onions hang on pegs.
A single dove shelters
on a rafter. A sudden wind
blows open the door.
GladErrand 
Whenever I see pictures of witches these days, at least the older ones, I think of all the old women who were victims of superstition and greed. I think of how people still will pick out a single Bible passage to justify acting on their fears and biases. But. I liked your poem.
I often think of that. There is certainly some evidence that in the Olden Days there weren’t many really old women, so women who lived to be old were suspect.