Heather Pecore

Forest of Claws and Teeth

Dark it was within

the belly of the wolf who

took me from the

leaf-strewn path of

hazel and scarlet with

hooked claws that pricked and

bit into ivory flesh as he

lifted me toward a starless sky and

swallowed me whole

 

To hide me from

the woodcutter whose

laughter was like

a winter chill at your nape and

fell like hail with all sorts of

bite

as he stalked the

darkened forest that was

lined with pale birch trees and

mottled with slivers of

silver while bearing an

axe covered in

crimson and carnage that

spilled and splattered over

pebbles and mud with

every step he took as he

searched for maidens both

young and fair that he

sliced like timber and

stacked in neat rows with a

kind of hunger that

the wolf

had never known.

The Replacement

Tied on scarlet ribbon to 

dangle overhead 

iron shears and horseshoes  

sway gently above a crib  

 

To ward off all sorts of 

dead things that 

creep in shadows and  

smell of rot and like to 

snatch away human 

babies while leaving 

something else within their spot 

 

But tricks and charms of 

rowan twigs and keys and crosses that 

reek of steel  

do not always hinder  

grinning creatures who  

in the darkness are  

concealed  

 

As they walk over 

dirt paths and puddles and  

the deserted streets of  

night  

hunting for  

unlocked windows   

with infants  

tucked in tight 

 

To sate a morbid hunger  

in which they’ll pay a  

fee leaving behind for 

the taken child a  

replacement just  

like me 

 

With eyes dull like 

dead bird feathers and skin  

corpse pale and cold who 

trembles at being left behind and  

still craves a mother’s hold.  

The Riverbank

 

I walk along the riverbank with

Faint memories of cold bleeding between my toes.

The wind and rain tug my lace dress, tattered,

And whisper tellings of things long forgotten.

 

Of a girl who wanted to break free of her past

But with a past who refused to let her go

And dragged her by a fist of hair

Over the terrain of mud and rock.

 

Held beneath dark waters that

Rushed softly down her throat

It muted her pleas so they remained unheard

And smothered all her hopes.

 

A scattering of dead leaves upon pale skin and

Branches tangled in sodden locks

From corpse trees who stood ashore

And watched as she fell hush.

 

Now bound to the blackened waters

That snatches breath away.

Condemned to hold others beneath its current

As I lure them from the riverbank.