Carla Nelson

Rookie (Indiana)

The Fairy Nursery Tree

The West Wind whispered, “Come away.
There’s a sight to see in the woods today.”
I followed where the West Wind led,
Past nodding violets and through ferns we sped.
Over velvet moss, woodland debris,
While the West Wind beckoned and murmured to me.
T’is fairy folk, whose bid we do.
They have summoned me, as they have summoned you.”
No sooner had he said these words.

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