SNOW WHITE: AN ANNIVERSARY
We are grown old now He and I, although
Most people outside the Little House would not
Believe such a thing Was true
Or even possible.
He is bent a little more Each day the slowly passes
And I have silver combs That match my hair and
Tiny liver spots on creased Smooth hands,
Soft from soothing brows.
There are days that I feel Them close by and still here
Although I know that they are Gone.
I am the one who nursed them
All seven as they grew old
And ill
And passed from my care.
Now it is just we two old People, alone and still in love
Living in the forest Growing vegetables and
Growing ever older together,
My lover
And my snow white hair in a mirror.
I still see Him occasionally, His royal sons and theirs
Riding pell mell all trumpeted After rabbits and stags.
And he might pause a while And look
And tell them the story again.
I was younger then, and so Foolish in my expectation.
Trapped in crystalline longing And asleep to the true
Potential of a truer love.
Asleep instead For the glamour of Romance;
With an act I was awakened
Not by a kiss although it helped –
No, but with a deer's heart and a deer's life
Came not a prince
But my true lover.
I live in a cottage.
Never in a castle.
