Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

If you enter through 
The rusty back gate
Messily labeled 105 and
Walk thirty steps to your right,
You will come across
A beaten path
Overgrown with forgotten weeds
And the remnant leaves of autumn.

But twenty steps into the forest,
A maple tree stands alone amongst thorny bushes.
And if you stray here from the path
Fifty-eight steps through the branches,
Listen closely.

For you can hear the hinges
Of a small wooden door
Leading to the home of an elf
Where she returns from her gathering,
Bakes acorn-pie,
And uses buttons to set the table.

If you stay silent
Little pixies
With insect-like wings–
Some with the wings of a bee
Or wings of the teal dragonfly–
Flutter between leaves,
Collecting soft foliage
To sew clothing 
In their homes within the trees.

Keep your eyes peeled,
And you may see a gnome
Walking up a hill in the distance
Peeking under logs and bushes
Searching for his squirrel companion.

Then you blink,
And they are gone.

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