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The Opal Dream Cave

 In an opal dream cave I found a fairy:
Her wings were frailer than flower petals,
Frailer far than snowflakes.
She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand.
I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner.
I carried her out of the opal cave, Then opened my hands.
First she became thistledown, Then a mote in a sunbeam, Then--nothing at all.
Empty now is my opal dream cave.

by Katherine Mansfield
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