For Liz

_____________

Some people speak in fairysong.

Dance widdershins, their heads thrown back.

Flap sequinwings but never fly.

All rainbowheaded, sparklyeyed

These flowerchildren: how they try,

They check the glass to see how high

They never fly. They’ll never fly.

But you were born with tinselwings,

With streetlamps shining in your eyes.

The magic found in common things

Ridiculous and warm and wise.

You shone so briefly, flew so high.

A supernovabutterfly.

I will not cry. I will not cry.