June 24, 2011

Pale Quarry, By Frances McQuillan

When he catches her, he finds
that she is greatly under-fed.
There are no roses on her cheeks
although her lips are bitten red.

Great are her foes; she has not bled.
For all their spite, she is not dead.

He kills a deer in Snow White’s stead.
Her death undone remains unsaid.

Knowing not where she’s been led,
far from the paths that hunters tread
the child away from home is fled.
Pale and dark and apple-red.

Frances McQuillan is currently studying English and French at University College Dublin. She once named a dog Chaos, which had consequences which were narratively appropriate.


Memsy said...

Very fine iambic tetrameter and enchanting poem.

AnnieColleen said...

Deceptively simple -- wow!

The last line really ties it together. I also love: "Her death undone remains unsaid." Very nice reversal there.

Teresa Robeson said...

I hate to pick favorites, but I'd have to say this is my favorite one of this issue...not that the others weren't great reads as well! :)