She was sometimes happy and sometimes sad.
She seemed religious in the vein of Vivien, the Lady of the Lake.
She tended to follow mother ducks on land.
She disliked and refused to use the words Fairy and Nymph.
Her gaze turned men to stone
only as long as both their eyes met.
Her gaze ignited woman to fire
in a manner that burned their spirits brighter into the world.
She lead the worst kind of men into the lake.
This journey did not go well for them, especially when drunk.
She lead the best kind of women to the shore
before the transition to the Other Wind.
One evening catching fireflies in a jar
I captured her as she waded into the intermittent glow.
I kept the fireflies prisoner long enough to write a poem.
She was not in that poem, but this one.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney