Not Your Fairy Tale

by Marsheila Rockwell

Merry,

she skips along

Picnic

basket in hand

On her

way to Grandma’s house

Red

cloak flowing out after her

Like

an echo of laughter

He

follows

Padding

silently

From

tree to tree

Behind

her

Watching

When

the witch comes

With

her shiny apple

He

leaps and tears out her throat

Before

she can approach the girl

This

is not your fairy tale

When

the bears come,

Three

in all, great to small,

He

chases them away with

Bared

teeth and raised hackles

This

is not your fairy tale

When

prince and steed come

He

harries and harasses them

Snapping

at fetlocks and ankles

Until

they flee in white-eyed panic

This

is not your fairy tale

When

the dwarves come

Looking

for a housekeeper

He

runs them off, biting

The

slowest one in the ass

This

is not your fairy tale

When

the fairy godmother comes

They

watch together as

Grandma

greets her at the door

And the

wolf smiles, pleased

This

is not your fairy tale, either, or mine

It

is, and always has been,

Hers

And

hers alone