Afraid of the Witches

Gray necked warlock locked his harvest up tight hoping to keep it from hidden a few weeks longer here. Scrying an entity from the deep woods at night Would the witches feel it? When would they appear? He felt their eyes watching, he felt their might. He felt savvy, but his introspection was not keen. Thanksgiving was peeking out its head in gratitude Sending feelers his way, trying to take from Halloween Determined to keep his autumnal attitude Atonement by the others was rarely ever seen.