Gretel Released Unharmed
by David MooltenHolding a knife, the old woman looks out
On dark familiar country through the window
Which frames her like an oven’s lit square.
Trees swallow the girl whole. Her trail’s thin
As a hiss, its tidbits stale as stone leading
Back generations. But the town finds her
Soul unrisen like the damp yeast-less flour.
The murdered ducks waits patiently on hooks
As though the dinner guests might resume
Recounting the exodus, a time before
The maid’s skittish scream. But it’s too late,
Already her story, her wrist the red hand
Grabs like a child about to run in the street,
No need of evil in the world, her eyes large,
Her innocence endlessly sufficient.
David Moolten's most recent book, Primitive Mood, received the T. S. Eliot Prize for poetry from Truman State University. He is a physician specializing in transfusion medicine and lives in Philadelphia.
