You need to know that it was
Lack of spirit that killed me,
Why I left life so soon.
From my place near the tree
I sorrowed to see her abused,
Ash-smeared and head low
Spirits falling onto the hearth.
So I sent forth my soul pieces,
Remnants of lost dreams:
A silver dress pearled,
A pair of glass gold-heels,
Pumpkins coaxed into coaches.
Because I wanted to teach her
What I learned too late,
That to find a prince one
Must already be a queen.
Kirsten Anderson, California
2 comments:
a new perspective on the Cinderella story, I've often wondered about Cinderella's mother...
What a lovely and painful poem. Really nice re-envisioning of the story. That's going to stick with me awhile.
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