Femmes Sauvageby Johnny Clewell |
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When I grow old, grandmother, I'll be the one to live alone in the woods with my herbs and roots and volumes of Rilke, baskets of yarn and gardening tools, old love letters tied into bundles, old red hood in a bottom drawer. When I grow old, I'll be the one sunning myself on the front porch step, listening for fox and lark and owl and the sound of my granddaughter's voice. When the time comes, I will know the wolf who comes to call at the garden gate, who asks for wine and poetry and a place in my narrow bed. When he eyes my granddaughter, this time I'll be the one who pounces first. Oh grandmother, what big teeth you have! the child will say to me. All the better for you, my dear! And I'll gobble that bastard up. |
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