Pixie Dust

It was a simpler time

a time

when a toddler

would amble down

a grassy hill

over 

rocks

and

phlox

to find 

the

yellow

brick

road

really

a long dirt driveway

where she would wander

to the wooden

mailbox

leaving

a note

a wish

written 

with sea foam

and periwinkle

promises

of

pixie dust

her mother

left her

to her own devices

to make her 

own

way

every

day

in

hope

of

finding

magic

delivered

only to find her 

own writing

stuffed way back

where she had to stand

tip toed

teetering

to reach

to pull 

closer

so it would be 

found

not

forgotten

so it would find its destination

One day

I do not remember 

exactly when

the note was gone

Maybe the postman forwarded it

by way of the North Pole

nineteen times over

 she waited

for

a response

a delivery 

Now, in a more complicated

time

where the road

is long

 rugged and rocky

here

there are no flocks

at her feet

here she has 

found

her way

the answer

making 

her own

magic

her own

private

pixie dust

November Poetry Project

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