Pixie
In between the smooth black stones
and the long verdant grasses
I play
as I dance ever so lightly amongst
the wooded green
and
as I glaze upwards to the endless sky
trees wave at me
with a kind of spectral awareness
that puts my soul at peace
knowing my aloneness has nothing to do
with loneliness
All around I see large creatures leaving
slimy trails in their wake
eating their way through the wiry jungle
and over there
quickly they move together
as they lift their food source to take back home
to their queen in her quest for constant reproduction
I find the world outside of myself a dizzying derangement
filled with moments happening at the speed of light
flashes
that threaten overwhelm me with
the feeling that life
is sucking me dry
Some call me the elfin one
my wings a gossimer fabric to display the riot of colour
I use to camolflage me when I quake
and am quietly unsure....
Some also call me the elusive one
and the tales are renoun
as they weave themselves between the heather and the ivy
I call myself a Pixie
as my laughter can be heard from hill to dale
and as the lovely night falls so deep
you can see the
blinking
of the phosphorous dust that surrounds my flight.
Copyright © Cherilyn Fry | Year Posted 2011
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