We fill tri-corner cookies
with cherries and poppy seed mohn,
as our grandparents did in the old world.
We pack baskets of sweets for others
and yearn for the tale –
a common beauty (made queen),
who speaks up and outwits the villain,
who wants to kill us.
A common story, told each year
so we don’t forget. But there’s joy.
We stamp and shout the scoundrel’s name,
we toss tri-cornered hats.
Wearing masks, we don roles—
brave young queen, suggestible king,
clever uncle, villain who hungers for power.
Masks help us imagine
it’s history
and only our story.
