Fairy-Spotting

By Lynne Chan

These stones are no place for you, small one
This smooth geometrical fountain: straight,
even lines--no place for the ocean's
song.

You shy away from my grasping hand
Greedy man. I saw the gossamer
wings and the rainbow hair and became
jealous.

Did the water draw you here? Murmurs,
replicas of far-off poetry, sea
spray, lured you to perch beside your stone
counterparts.

If some trader passes by and sees
the light amongst the marble, he will
clip your wings to a velvet cushion,
for kings to buy.