In the memory I am hiding

Beyond the shadows

Of the deep dark wood.

There are no wolves.

He is in the car

Waiting.

He is waiting

As I hide

Little and red

Waiting.

 

It is the end

And the beginning.

Wishing in the woods

For a fairy tale.

A magic wand.

A woodcutter.

7 years old

And waiting.

 

By Fiona Lochhead

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