Gretel as an Old Woman

By Natalie Rice

​It’s the story of many women—the town,
still the same even though you left long ago.
 
On the roadside, hay gathers in pale swatches
and the aspen display their leaves as glossy plates.
 
Rivers thaw. You sort
through a thousand poppy seeds until your hands
 
turn into mourning doves. There is a house
on the hill draped in garlands
 
of roses. On the porch, a basket
of hot bread. Apricot foxgloves, oleander, figs.
But you remember
 
funeral wagons too. The bed, stripped
 
of its sheets. How your breasts
would not produce milk. A small crack that formed.
And beyond it,
 
the ghost of yourself sitting in that old bathtub,
hot water dripping from your hair.

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Natalie Rice is the author of Nightjar, Gaspereau Press (2025) and Scorch, Gaspereau Press (2023.) Her poems have appeared in journals such as Grain, Queen’s Quarterly, Event Magazine, The Malahat Review, Contemporary Verse 2, Terrain.org and several others. She lives in Nova Scotia, Canada.