Witches and Satanists we have been named
Over the years we’ve been murdered and maimed
Mothers and daughters and sisters and wives
All have the power — we gave you your lives
Nothing can ever reverse what’s been done,
But we’ll try with the birth of each daughter and son
(That is one of my first poems,
written as a ridiculously serious child.
Already young to know how to rhyme,
let alone the pipsqueak becomes a feminist.
But oh, well. It has to start somewhere.)