(For Cynthia Ann Dougherty) br br Towing your tattered doll, br you would fetch your storybook br and scale my knees to hear br how Sleeping Beauty woke. br My voice, to match a tale, br grated a giant's roar br or whispered of lamp or bean br against your ash-blonde hair. br br You clapped each tidy ending, br after fidgeting through the plot: br your smile—at rescue, prince, br embrace—bloomed at the thought. br In that time of once upon, br legend let fall the truth br that a princess is her feeling: br kind words keep a lovely mouth. br br I celebrate that now br in your own story's flush, br toss rice at your ivory gown br and raise a father's wish. br Ever-afters recede in mist, br but for the princess shining here br my cheer is plain and easy: br may your storybook endure. br br br [Pub. in Caduceus, Yale U.