Forever Wood – Poetry by Kristin Garth
The witch abiding in the old dark woods knows how to entice…
Follow breadcrumbs to the edge of her wood.
Often evil smells rather good. Aspic
seasoned with arsenic served with baked goods
she plundered from an abandoned picnic.
A cookie with an innocent face next
to jellied poison she hopes you will taste.
Slumber inside her forever woods. Hex
upon all trespassers who would deface
pathways of her exile. Each pebble displaced
by some children left to starve debases
her struggle, cottage she carved, the staircase
of skeletons, dozens dislocated
by hand, boiled clean of flesh, polished ornate.
For fresh provisions, an exile must wait.
