Flight of the Fey

 

            I

A wild flower caught by the hand.

Skipping beside me, her feet describe

Fairy patterns as she floats along.

She starts at the gusts

from the trains arrival

then cuddles closer in.

 

            II

The sun’s harsh rays

Filter through the grime.

Diffuse light picks out particles

Glinting in the air. Excitedly,

She speaks.

‘Fairies!’

 

Sitting beside me, she reads aloud.

Words spill across her lips.

Fairytales flutter across her tongue,

Her fingers trace the lines.

 

 

            III

The outside flickers by.

Obscured by stunted woods,

And weathered poles,

Is a Fairy knowe[1].

Magic in a circle of industry,

Imprisoned in a ring of iron.

 

Bounded by the tracks,

The fey fly to the wild-flower,

Seeking sanctuary in the fleeting,

Half-life of a child’s eye.

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[1] Archaic Scots term for  hillock or knoll often used now as a place name.