Once, I Worshipped

I was small and stained with summer 
sun, grass blade knees, and scrapes 
all over. Morning dew and wild schemes, I lived 
inside the world of dreams where faeries hid 
beneath ferns and thyme. Teacup seats of acorn 
brown, spider silk for daytime gowns.I felt their hush 
at nightfall and sometimes I would recall enchanted dusk 
that slipped away whenever adults chose to stay.

So I became their architect, pebble plans, sticks, 
leaves, and flowers for temples short and round
on moss floors of soft ground where I’d leave them 
offerings of sugar and bread. I’d whisper low and bow 
my head imagining their feet in silver shoes waltzing 
upon the midnight dews, tiny deities of light.