Never a glance back.
Nothing in our pockets
but the stones and pinecones
we find along the way—
the occasional treasure
of bone and eggshell, moss
and feather. We knew the story
of Hansel and Gretel.
The old woman’s house—
much like our grandmother’s
we had just left
for these woods.
Deeper in until the sunlight
struggles to find us.
Deeper in until the sound
of the dead trees we’ve kicked down
fall silent. Deeper in
until neither of us knows
how long or how far
we’ve gone. The hunger
in our bellies, the light
now slant, we turn
let the panic quicken
our pace. Let the trees
usher us out.
They never scold us.
Lay us a path
of leaves and twigs
roots and soft needles.
Lead us to the sounds
of the road, the short walk
back, the smoke from the chimney
reaching like a long arm, fingers beckoning.
Entering the house (how contained it feels)
we smell like trees, like air;
cool and free and endless.
Julia Klatt Singer
Julia Klatt Singer is the poet in residence at Grace Nursery School. Co-author of Twelve Branches: Stories from St. Paul, and author of five books of poetry. Her book, Elemental, has audio poems at OpenKim (https://openkim.org/), as the element Sp. She’s co-written numerous songs with composers Craig Carnahan, Jocelyn Hagen, & Tim Takach. Ms. Singer is a long-haired, sweater-wearing poet, painter, and thief.