Rapunzel (poem)
Rapunzel
Everyone, Rapunzel says
Waylaying her latest swain
Surprising at the tomb-still cottage gate
his hesitant approach
Has a milieu, I wanted mine
To be more than that of witch’s hostage
Bound in a tower room
Do you want to know the truth?
I winnowed seeds where the birds had crapped them out
On the window ledge
Rolled them in balls of patiently gathered dust
Made pliable by spit, and sticky
I let them fall
They grew brambles, some
And fleurs sauvages, asters yellow-faced and crowned in white
But other few did sprout me morning glory vines
And these I hid from her beneath my hair
That my dear is the secret of my escape
Now if you have a tinderbox, we will set fire to it all
(2019, Stephanie Foster)