I love the confidence of this poem with its declarative statements and self-awareness. The simple, one-word, place-naming title provides a lens for readers to view the poem without ever using the word “witch.” There’s a calmness to the speaker of this poem; they know who they are and what their capabilities are. The matter-of-fact tone extends to inflicted pain and intended bleeding; this speaker is powerful, without apology, but also in reaction to the failings of others. They know they would have been victimized in a place like Salem, in a time of trials held against those accused of being witches. Here there is no false accusation; the qualities are described more as gifts, or at least necessary responses. I appreciated how this poem turns the witch-trial narrative on its head—those accused of witchcraft in Salem experienced hysteria and false narratives. This narrator seems to say, “I am witch,” shapeshifting into animal forms, haunting, healing, communing with nature, having the means to produce blood, and to end life. This felt to me a deeply political poem, gesturing backward to provide context for how we think about spellcasters, and also ripe for our time when reproductive rights are under attack. The speaker in this poem fights back, claiming space, choice, control, and the narrative itself. —Rebecca Hart Olander