Hansel: A Sestina

By Edward C. Lynskey

Witches here? Oh, Sis not in these woods
guarded by hemlocks, letting in a noon sun
we scamper through, a pair of sly shadows.
For sport we'll bait the corky bear, chase
the wry weasel, skylarking under hot stars
all night. Let's shake a leg! Why wait?

But first we must lie low, listen, and wait
for Pop to grab his ax and go chop some wood.
From our loft's port, I lace shooting stars
to my heels itching to split, the fresh sun
dropping a bright beam to caves once chaste,
where we can tease and tame dragon shadows.

Now I'm a tough guy not scared of my shadow:
I say flirting with danger lends bold weight
to boasts. Sis, it'll be a gas, the chase,
then spinning fabulous yarns. And the woods
make me crazy. Can you picture the geeky son
of the bumluck rail-splitter becoming a star?

But we wasted the day dulling to first star.
Gretel made a wish to flee the grim shadows,
tiring of our play. Sis, I yawned, the sun
will rise again you know. Let's just wait
here until it comes up. You'll meet the wood
hag before then, Gretel cried. She'll chase

us down. But I dreamt of nude nymphs to chase.
Up crept the witch, broom sweeping swart stars
into Gretel's heart. I awoke not in the woods
but bound in a gingerbread hut. Cloven shadows,
both women turned and cooed they couldn't wait
until a gong sounded to eat as soon as the sun

sank low. The coals by then would roast sonny
boy wrapped in tinfoil, buried in the chase.
Don't you agree ribs are sumptuous? Now wait
a second! I yelled. My jaunts when the stars
glittered were all in fun. Beyond the shadow
of doubt, I never meant any harm in the woods.

As the sun quits the woods, a new chase begins:
I wait in starstruck shadows now the hunted one.