Magpie Tales

A bound and folded stone,
a piece laid down
from an old newspaper obituary

'It is white' The witch thought
'To remind us of the bones
in Moonlight.'

Ne'er mind the dates of birth and death,
ne'er mind the name... 
'All has been boiled rightly
and placed where it will be 
seen the most'

Beware. She turns in sweeping
black, so much
a thin angled shadow

there is only a glimpse
of bent bristle on the tip
of broom, as she launches

a mere wisp of sound
for any mortal nearby
to sense.