Two haiku about: the witch.
I don't know why. Thankfully, I don't need to.
The sun was out this morning so I spent part of it pruning plum trees. It showed its face less often in the afternoon, but we still got some yard work done.
Now my muscles are sore and tired. Perhaps I'll call it an early night.
Her cackle is fine,
but she's not much of a witch -
her broom's in the shop.
* * *
Green skin, foul cooking,
but he just thinks she's a witch.His poor stepmother!