Ken's Poetry

Abandonment

He left no glass slipper on the stair.

She was beautiful (if smudged)
and knew her prince would come,
that rags would turn again.

We three ugly siblings
waited to test our feet
against the crystal,
rode dreams as big as pumpkins
but his obsession was too great
to watch us struggling on the stair,
and when he rode off forever
she turned to cinder.

He was a murderer Prince
and beheaded we waited
fearful of mice in harness
pawing at the dark.