The family had three girls who
            would stage Grimm fairytales
                        in the backyard
            Babies’ breath, blond hair and knotted bed sheets
            crumpled little faces, knees thought too knobby
the middle child always
                                    played the male lead
Alight my steed, fair Rapunzel,        
            We’ll soon be far from here.
                                                                        Beneath the chattering of excited
                                                           suburbanites furnishing their first home
                                   to look old,         
                                                sadness echoed like a lost thought
                                                            across the field.
The realtor would see to that,             wouldn’t she?
            The market as it is has enough ghosts.
Rapunzel, in the midst of the jabbering crowd,
            looking much older
                        nibbles on a Saltine.
Grandmumsy always told us –
            Chew forty times before you swallow
her third husband counted.
            Late night special toast for the sleepless
two            with butter, please             then
            Momma’s screaming in her dreams again         
twenty-four
            Darling, it’s not yet time to swallow
forty
            All three were always slim, but her little
nightingales grew skinny and wiry
            More like snakes, who when
            scared of being stepped on lunge and
strike an unsuspecting victim.