gnome boy
his hands in moss
his feet tangled in the oak roots
his muddy knees find my basket
of acorns destined to become bread.
I made him too.
without a second thought
now he imparts his wisdom
Secrets of the old tree,
translating whispers of bees
He shows me a door in the trunk
I’ve passed by for many years
how could I have never noticed it before?
We step inside for fairy tea—
red elf cup cakes and sips of dew
and I know
we are just visitors of this world.
