with a dead wood stick, tap the gate
one-two-three
and wait for the answering knock
one-two-three
enter into the shadowed glade
beyond the wooden threshold
leave the sunshine
behind the wooden threshold
this is not the inner maze
though cowards remained without
this is only the first gate of many
but you hear their fleeing feet kick up dirt
you turn to see you benefactor
the one that answered one-two-three
you turn and see a bull-headed man
with blood smeared lips and hooves
no thread will save you now
no easily turned woman’s heart
and you never made the first turn among the hedges
before he charges
Words and Feathers 