Fairies dance here. I hear their silver laughter
pealing in the morning as they raise these leaves—
much the way you’d raise an umbrella—
toward the morning light. Sometimes,
from the corner of my eye, I think I see them
sitting cross-legged beneath the leaves
or leaning on the stems, peering up at the green,
their iridescent wings fluttering gently at their sides.
But when I stare at them directly, they instantly disappear.
I laugh at their shyness, and their own silver laughter
joins with mine, and the leaves do a little dance to the sound.
It makes the morning, I tell you, this laughing with fairies and leaves.