A leaf-green gown, a magpie feather cloak, a pair of birch bark shoes – these memories were left here with the trees when I entered the human world, my heart snagged by a huntsman with cunning fingers and sky-blue eyes. His kiss meant more to me than a leaf-green gown, his dark hair was softer than a magpie feather cloak. I gave him three whispering children – two green-eyed boys, a blue-eyed girl. I watched him age while I did not.
I’m returning to the forest now, to mourn him, slipping back into my woodland clothes, as if I never was away.
My kind forget carelessly, though. I’ll wander here until my heart is snagged once more, by a pair of brown eyes, a smile like sunlight. I’ll leave my secrets lightly then, go visiting the human world.
It’s Prosery night at dVerse. Flash fiction inspired by a quotation, a story in 144 words. Tonight our host is Merril, and she gives us a line from Jo Harjo, the new US Poet Laureate. She’s chosen this line:
“These memories were left here with the trees”
from the poem “How to Write a Poem in a Time of War.” You can read the entire poem here.