Stepmothers in Fairy Tales

They are dangerously sexy
and always married to a king,
generic wealthy man or stonecutter,
living out their tumultuous lives
in the first wife's home, altered first
of course; scarlet-draped boudoirs, gothic
windows opening on to moors
where deformed trees loom.
They harm stepchildren in
enchanted forests by incising 
their subcutaneous fat with blue light
turning them into swans, proffering 
poisonous fruit or exposing them
to the vagaries of witches. They have a thing
for mirrors, lakes and strange headgear.
Age toughens them; keratin scales within 
their nails and hair. When they die, it is 
by bitter herbs, their spirit thrashing 
like a hammerhead shark, never 
in history going down without a fight.

*originally published in Fiona's first collection of poetry, Alchemy (Turas Press, Dublin, 2020)Altered State Oh Father, this forest is a labyrinth I have caught sight of the flying saints you sent to…