poem #1

Faerie Circles

Faerie circles;

Circlets of berries, bramble and petals,

colourful and natural

and hewn from the rawest things.

Nana warned,

‘My child, keep away from their trap,

if you step in, you will dance, if you

dance, you dance forevermore.’

In the cold woods

I found a plastic table, fit with

a cheap paper birthday cloth

and old dolls about a teapot.

With them

I drank, and spoke, and drained

the ichor from my thorned heart

through tears and melodrama.

With them

I learned that there was never

a fairie circle in those old woods.

Grandma

only knew the far-off places

she was never told she could see.