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For the Angel Wings Benefit Contest |
They are born in the Southern Hemisphere In the season of most brutal heat. They hate the heat and cocoon Themselves against it, Though it feeds them. It gives them strength For the time that is to come. When that day arrives They migrate north Where trees are turning colors: Shades of red and orange Purple, gold. They want to escape the heat The heat that birthed them The warmth, the raging fire That rages within. Where the cooling sensations Of the weather there Bring them relief. They are playful. They want to get out and feel the chill of Autumn Which drives away the heat Which pushes them on. And makes them grow. And when the season of shortest days And longest nights appears They are grateful. And then, they are playful. They cover the ground in white In the color of unicorns And wedding gowns. They create great fangs That hang from the gutters outside my house Spiky and crystalline. They blow, and with them Move the trees. We don’t know It’s their breath, but it is. They are full of crispness And firmness. They are direct And they capture your attention With their games. They have no names. They are not known as undines are As dragons or the Fair Folk; They are not Elementals. Their magic is only for play. But they are the beauty of the season When it’s so easy to get downtrodden In amongst the grey skies and The studded tires and the extra sweaters. They come to us and bring us joy And pleasure. They make the world Shine, and give us hope that Tomorrow, again, will be warmer. But until then, there is beauty. |