A LITTLE MISSISSIPPI MAGIC
Revel Nocturne
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Jun 4, 2024
Eight o’clock dusk by the window and
Up and up spiral the great oak’s branches,
Summer faeries — blinking in, blinking out.
Nocturnal, like the sun-shy spider weaving
Fates on glass by starlight. Shadows descend
On the ivy pole, captured, snapshot, by its halo.
The flames dance to the guitar’s naming, a cadence
Felt more than heard, a composition as familiar
As your bones. To run and never stop, breathless,
Until Faerie’s Edge. To be lulled by the crickets
And frogs. To have looked and seen. To have
Treasured the faerie jars by night, knowing
The magic dies with sunlight.
