We remember the beginning and the end
the once upon and the ever after.
But who wants to talk about all that time in between?
All those days when Cinderella left sooty fingerprints
across her slipper
and seven men’s tears splashed on a crystal coffin.
When Aurora slept and slept and slept
and everyone slept with her.
And who wants to talk about all those weeks
that Joseph sat in jail, forgotten,
or those months when Sarah wasn’t pregnant?
When a people waited four hundred years
telling each other “maybe he’ll come tomorrow”.
(And let’s not talk about the Israelites
and their long walk.)
Who wants to slog through all that middle
where so much of life is?
I’ll take the ever after.