24 Nov

It’s been three nights without a visit.
Even Mom and Dad fail to explain her absence
but suppose it to be weather related.
Patient, expectant, the girl reconfirms the presence
of the tooth and scrap of paper that says,
read the questions in the letter on the table. 

Finally, tiny written answers penned by one
who self describes as no taller than our salt shaker 
and tells of a Canadian blizzard.
I examine the coins, marveling at a fairy’s strength
to carry the two golden Sacagaweas—beautiful,
but unpopular with the grown up public

who have settled and decreed these be received
from none but a parking garage payment machine.

Any thoughts?

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