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.

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