Asphodel

(Feeling a bit maudlin)

Since you were young and dressed in pink
With princess crown atop your head
And fairy wand in your sticky hands
Your mother read you Red Riding Hood:
The big bad wolf with his big bad teeth
Covered up with a frilly frock
Who ruined Red and her dear dear Gran—
(They would never sleep a night in peace)
(Their unease felt by all of nature)

Never, ever, speak to strangers.

Not for candy, not for a doll, not for
Any kindness he may shew.

When you grew out of pretty pinafores
Straight into cut jeans and short short tops
Dreaming of all those popular cliques
Your mother pulled you off to the side
(To your great consternation)
From amidst your gossip session
And told you of the girl in the news:
Walking too close (in her high high heels)
to the teetering edge
She fell and
she fell
into the jaws of Ammit
Though the man who took her was found in the end,
She was lost
lost
lost

Never, ever, speak to strangers.

Not for honeyed words, not for any gifts, not for
Any kindness he may shew.

Her warnings persist, your response deteriorates:
“Yes mama” becomes
Scornful contempt becomes
Empty hums.

The last she hears is reassurance:
Of course you’ll be careful,
(She always calls with the same old things)
Uh huh, absolutely, goodbye.
(You wonder if you ought write a voicemail script)

Then as you’re out picking the daisies
CRACK! the carriage appears:
Five minutes later you’re whisked away.

Before you know
You’re out by the Fields
In the pretty diamond garden
Onto your sixth pomegranate seed.