Fairy Tale Future
The wrinkles tell me that I am old,
Older than I was when I didn’t realize
I was giving myself away,
A piece of trash on the curb
Next to sour milk and rotten meat,
Tucked neatly in white plastic to hide the stink.
Hiding in the wrinkles
Are all of those hopes,
The treasures of childhood imagination
Promises of a better life, a dream
Broken until there was nothing -
Just pieces of ribbon and satin, scattered glass
Reflecting every little what-might-have-been.
And so I allow the ink to explain,
To dream the unreal into reality.
Print on the page which knows
More about me than I do,
Which is able to pull the scattered glass,
The satin and remnants of ribbon,
Piece it together until it is recognizable -
The shining ruby red of Dorothy’s size sixes
Cinderella’s glass slipper, and twelve
Little shoes of dancing princesses.
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