THE FAIRY IN WINTER

There was a Fairy — flake of winter —

Who, when the snow came, whispering, Silence,

Sister crystal to crystal sighing,

Making of meadow argent palace,

Night a star-sown solitude,

Cried‘ neath her frozen eaves, “I burn here!”

Wings diaphanous, beating bee-like,

Wand within fingers, locks enspangled,

Icicle foot, lip sharp as scarlet,

She lifted her eyes in her pitch-black hollow —

Green as stalks of weeds in water —

Breathed: stirred.

Rilled from her heart the ichor, coursing,

Flamed and awoke her slumbering magic.

Softlier than moth's her pinions trembled;

Out into blackness, light-like, she flittered,

Leaving her hollow cold, forsaken.

In air, o'er crystal, rang twangling night-wind.

Bare, rimed pine-woods murmured lament.