Once upon a yesterday, when wishes
were fishes and fishes came true,
a young man saw the moon drowning
in a pond and fished her out with
a bucket. “Thank you,” said the moon,
“How may I repay you?” The young man,
taken by her beauty, begged her to
stay with him always. She hesitated
and hedged, for the moon is more
someways then always, but finally she
said said, “I promise, I will stay.” She was
gone the next day. The young man
waited by the pond and one day caught
her again with his bucket. This time he
said, “Let me teach you
always.” Every month
the moon drowns,
and she says,
“I will stay.”
Always.
x
Love.
Once upon a yesterday, when
promises were promises & lies
were promises too, there was
a little girl without wings. Which
is not so unusual, as little girls go.
Perhaps the unusual bit is that
she felt she should have them
at all. The little girl would pick
up feathers in the park, and ask
the pigeons, “Have you seen my
wings?” One day a little boy heard
her query and laughed. “Don’t be
stupid,” he said. “Little girls
don’t have wings!”
“Neither do little
boys,” she said,
and he fell
out of the
sky.
x
Love.
I recieved an enchanting gift today. Two small envelopes with my name and address beautifully printed on them were in my mail-box. They carry canadian stamps and no return address, though the postal office tracking number tells me they were sent from a mailbox downtown by W. Georgia Street.
Thank you, my unknown Polyhymnia, for reminding me to wonder. Your letters bring the poetry my life has been lacking, the mythology I have been strangling without. Thank you for catching me as I fall, for knowing me so desperately well or guessing so grandly. You have given me a gift I cannot measure without vivisection, without the sudden demonstration of spontaneous conflageration. Thank you.
I’m looking forward now.