November Fairy Dreams
A gust of wind with a chill on its tail
rushes through the trees in gray and pale,
high up in the naked branch
tiny spectral lights begin to twinkle and dance;
a shiver and a blink ties us to hazy unseen high jinx
where hard shell insect hide their flashing winks,
each seeks warmth, some hiding shelter in place
while in the house they entwine in curtained lace.
The stink bug with magic transparent wings abuzz
hide in the pleated drapes warmed and well gloved
and on their pumpkin seedlike backs,
the mottled brown antenna stacks
are tiny fairies, garden nymphs unambiguous
venturous, charming, winged, naughty, mischievous
slipping in and out the backdoor screens,
secret, safe, secure in imaginary November dreams;
it's just a tiny magical bug, burrowed in the rug
and it teases my dog to lay down and roll around
captive to their scent and sound.
for Caren Krytsinger;s November Twinkle Fairy
11/17/19
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