(x = space)

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Storied Creatures

(story people)

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Elves could come

At night

And cobble me some

Shoes;

Maybe a storied dwarf could spin

Some straw (maybe

the recyclables)

Into gold–

And since I know the name,

We’d keep

A healthy distance

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The kraken could rage at

All the red tide

In the bay;

A dragon could riddle me

For treasure

(I could offer books

in which these

serpents with wings and other vanities

appear to

good effect)

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A dryad could point out

Poison ivy

While I walk, while

A sibling naiad

Translate calls from frogs at ponds

For me, because

I’d rather be an ally than

A foe

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I’d like to know the spirits

From the stories

Even though there’s eldritch strength

With talent, which I

Could never touch

Or could be

Burned by

Since these creatures are magic

And their skills,

While we are mortal and

With what we do

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But, oh, the draw of living out

Some lifetimes

As these supernal creatures

Are supposed to live

(and if so,

then they must live

even if in tragedy of feeling

or of fate)

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But let’s say in the meantime

We tell all the stories

Though

Their foundation be–

Maybe the key to knowing them be–

Separation

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C L Couch

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Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash

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