In An Evening Wood
In an evening wood, fairies play;
moonlight’s resplendent fingers dance among them.
Only the trees know fairy secrets;
they’re fairy, security systems.
When winter shows its frigid caress,
trees reveal bodies of thickset wood.
Fairies need no warm apparel,
they are elemental spirits, indifferent to chill.
Trees revel in fairy merry-making;
fairies are their caregivers.
When the next spring thaw begins,
busy fairies armed with paint and brushes;
reward the trees with a new coat of foliage.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2019
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