The Forest, 26 November 2017

Before she left for far away, daughter sat herself
On the couch beside me and began to play
With two small, hand carved and painted
Wooden figurines, belonging to her grandma,
One of which was a sly old woman in a kerchief,
Cutting her eyes sideways, the other a sly old man
In a flat cap doing just the same. Pretty soon,
We were enmeshed in daughter’s narrative,
She and I, about a grandmother going to visit
Her twin granddaughters on the other side
Of a deep forest in which she planned to camp
Two nights on the way. The old man was
A sea captain who had grown up in the forest
As the son of a woodsman and who offered
To help the old woman on the dangerous path.
Across the couch and through the woods
They walked. When they stopped for the night,
The old woman pitched her tent while the old man
Built a fire, cut a switch from a low-hanging branch,
Pulled some twine from his pocket, borrowed
A pin from the old woman that he bent
Into a fishhook, and went to a waterfall to catch dinner.
That evening they, improbably,
Ate fresh-caught salmon with mushrooms and berries
The old woman had gathered, and when
It was dark and time to sleep the old man
Offered to sleep on the ground outside, but
The old woman showed him the bed she’d made
Inside the tent and invited him in. The second day
Went uneventfully much the same, although
This time the old woman did the fishing
And they more plausibly dined on trout.
The third day they reached the house at the far edge
Of the forest, where the old woman’s tall twin
Granddaughters with lustrous black hair
And Thai dancing costumes (they’re adopted)
Invited her and her new friend in. They gave
The old man a tour of their stucco mansion
And then performed a welcoming dance for him.
Then it was time to leave. Daughter left the figurines
Sprawled akimbo, hugged her father fiercely
And whispered to him, for his ears only, “That’s
The way it was and that’s the way it should have been!”