Volume 5 Number 2
Fairies are not all pastel creatures
Of frivolous wits. I met one,
Under the leaves of summer's wood —
Red hair tousled, eyes and wings green as
Leaves, cotton gown rucked up to her knees.
Even as I stared, she laughed
And said, "You must keep a sharper watch, if
Fortune would favor you!"
Closing my mouth, I wished her good morning.
"Luck comes to the courteous, too," she
Observed, and rose into the air,
Verdant wings humming.
Eye-to-eye, she winked at me and vanished. Was she
Real? Unreal? Who's to say? But I found what I was looking for.