If the cream is missing
From the milk bottle on your stoop
And you hear distant laughter
Like windchimes through the trees
If the horses are in a state
Stomping hooves and snorting
As if a particularly naughty bug
Just pinched them on their rumps
If your daughters forgo all their
Daily chores, their visits to their fiancés
Only content to sit by the window
With breath misting flowers over glass
In dreamy sighs
If all that has happened and more
Fret not, for it’s the sprite
Passing through the village.
She is known to frequent these parts
When rising forth from hibernation,
The frost thawing on the ground
Where her fey feet touch
The branches bowing low in reverence,
Relinquishing their clutch of snow
The animals poking out snouts
From half-forgotten burrows to become
Her light-footed entourage.
Worry not, for she carries mischief
In one pocket of her spidersilk dress,
And Spring in another.
Avra Margariti is a queer author, Greek sea monster, and Rhysling-nominated poet with a fondness for the dark and the darling. Avra’s work haunts publications such as Vastarien, Asimov’s, Liminality, Arsenika, The Future Fire, Space and Time, Eye to the Telescope, and Glittership. The Saint of Witches, Avra’s debut collection of horror poetry, is forthcoming from Weasel Press. You can find Avra on twitter (@avramargariti).
Image Credit: Abstract painting of a spring fairy [wallpaperflare]