Grimm Middle Class Fable

I could start like this -
‘once upon a time
rustic characters at the edge of a forest....’
But if you like it straight up,
it wasn’t like that.

There were no creepy woods
or crotchety witches.
There were no talking ravens,
proud millers, or big-hearted huntsmen,
there were no woodcutters down on their luck.
None of my clan learned a moral lesson,
foul deeds went unpunished,
and hard work and innocence
didn’t pay off.

At our house there was food on the table,
and no black-footed wolf tapped at the door.
But like everyone I had to bundle my knapsack,
and go forth in the world
to prove my worth to my parents.

I tossed birds the crumbs stashed in my pockets,
and bit poison apples without thinking twice.
Still, I partook of an age-old tradition -
I appeared and disappeared
punctually at work
decently dressed
despite the potions imbibed
to drown disenchantment.

One can’t sleep forever.
When the spell broke I learned it didn’t matter
if I returned with an apron of jewels
or a handful of nothing,
I would inherit the hot iron shoes of my family
and dance in them until I die.

Copyright ©2004 by Sarah Sloat