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