In the Fey City by S. Brackett Robertson

In the Fey City
by S. Brackett Robertson

Beyond these garden walls
this cool night air
to the fey city you walk
towards shining pavement
reflecting glowing

here is a place lined by silk
steep roof slanted over stone walls
elegant trees arching, forming passageways

what spices are sold here,
what sweet dreams
carried out on linen sheets

wrought iron gates
enclose these cobbled lanes
you passed not through them,
but stepped over damp grass
towards that hint of music
carried by wind above mossy ground

you were pulled here
by those masked crowds
(they dance–riverswift
waltzing, gliding
some masked by wood, by horn
by fur by feather)
you were seeking more than just a ball

what lies here is danger unspoken
don’t turn down narrow streets
don’t step where you don’t know your footing
hold your promises like playing cards
close to your heart
take care in what you say
here in this land where words turn to deeds

S. Brackett Robertson is an undergraduate student of anthropology and museum studies. Her poetry has previously appeared in Mythic Delirium. No matter where she finds herself, she tends to be on the prowl for archaic objects and places. She occasionally hangs from the ceiling, but not while walking.