Lynn White: Poetry

Dinner For One

James promised me the moon that night

but I wondered what sort of moon.

There are so many.

Would it be full

or half

or quarter

or something in-between.

I pondered the question

then.

But it doesn’t matter

now

I know exactly what I’m getting.

He handed them all to me on a plate

with a side order of planets and stars.

And then he left.

---

Cinders

In her dreams she went to the ball,

met her prince,

danced with him

unforgettably

so unforgettably

that he would search for her later,

search until his lost love was found again.

We read it!

It was no dream that fairy tale.

A poetic little spell and a wave

of her wand the fairy godmother

made her dream come true,

sorted the ball gown and transportation,

the driver and escorts,

but we were never told

who taught her to dance.

And we know she was a dancer!

If the prince had suffered cracked ankles..

crushed toes, bruised feet..

these things

might have led to

a different outcome.

Maybe the glass slippers were magic

and carried her,

in step perfectly

in time with the music.

But we should have been told

even in a fairy story,

especially

in a fairy story

we should have been told.