Once Upon a Time…
After the Fairy Godmother Departs
I am a charcoal dusted Cinderella
trying on the shoe I’ve left behind.
Somewhat surprised its been found,
amazed by its smooth, elegant fit.
Flustered, what to do with it?
Own up its mine, and then what if?
Produce the perfect match: right foot to left.
I squirreled away the solo slipper,
stashed it into the back of a closet,
safe under a pile of cleaning rags.
It smells suspiciously of gum terpentine.
I never planned to wear it again.
After all I considered it a one night fling—
specially designed footwear
where one size does not fit all.
There is something more than hope
to be surmised that is blazoned
behind his eyes—-
the man kneeling before me,
the match to my slipper held
in his outstretched hand.
There is a question unasked.
Leaves me the task to consent
or refuse. And to what?
Isn’t this only a matter of returning
a slightly used dancing shoe?
c.Darlene Moore Berg