The stories weave through the fire
Creating shadows that stretch toward
The listeners who huddle and peer into the
Waiting darkness hoping for a glimpse of home.  

The storyteller’s voice rasps the voice of a giant      
Hungering for a taste of blood and of the
Wolf waiting at Grandmother’s house
For an unwary girl who tries to get past
The ogre that blocks the bridge that leads to home.  

The listeners lean towards the safety of each other
As the words give form to the monsters that hide
Just beyond the light that escapes from the fire
Except for the girl who sits apart with her back to the
Warmth and gazes into the soft darkness towards home.  

There is no fear of the shadows that lie out there.
She has already met the wolf, the giant has already
Spilt her blood and she has vanquished the ogre that was
Waiting for her on the bridge that leads to home.