The Hidden Door

I was doing a homework assignment for my crative writing class, and found this ironic peom in the archives of the Valparaiso Poetry Review website:

HIDDEN DOOR, by Jared Carter

The old stories do not end the way you were told.

Hansel and Gretel do not escape from the witch's house;

they decide to stay. Ali Baba does not emerge from the cave,

but enters a subterranean chamber that goes on for miles.
At every juncture there is always a hidden door.

When the characters step through, they enter a realm

having no resemblance to the world the rest of us know.

The old stories are never about what happens next,
but about the glass vial on the table. After days of heat,

you hear three sharp raps, and look out and see

winter coming through the forest—neither rain nor snow,

but a wind stripping the leaves and stiffening the grass.
© by Jared Carter