for “Pat Pat” Davidson
A fairy godmother offers her acre or two of land full of
flowers and fruit trees freely to the nomadic beekeepers,
whistles a song to the geese to put them in for the night,
keeps a treasure chest of gifts for children to dig through.
A fairy godmother doesn’t announce she’s a fairy godmother.
She plants and waters and harvests, hosts city gals and critters,
adopts all creatures, human and nonhuman, under her wing.
She cares like an otherworldly animal mother, ever alert.
A fairy godmother reports on the ratio of cats to mice,
spends her sunny days addressing fallen trees and weeds,
protects chickens from hawks. She ferries a burro,
goats, sheep, geese, ducks, dogs, and cats through life.
With someone always birthing and dying, an owl’s flight
a breath away, a fairy godmother keeps on, a beloved spell.
Even here, you can see her holding a found feather or a
small white egg in her careful hands, such earthly offerings.
