Once upon a time
there was a girl who knew the autumn leaves
hid fairies,
and believed that the patterns in the sky
really were winged horses, and swans.
And she would grab her daddys thumbs
and pull him outside to watch
her chase lightning bugs.
And after she got tired he’d pick her up, and together they’d
listen to the owls calling to each other,
and he’d whisper that they were telling stories to her,
but she couldn’t understand them because she wasn’t
grown yet.
But he would translate,
and she would believe every word.


Once upon a time
there was a girl who knew that fairies were
not real,
and believed that the constellations painted pictures
only a scientist could see.
And she never chased lightning bugs,
and her daddy stopped picking her up,
and the owls stopped hooting
and flew away.
But her daddy said it was just because of winter,
and she would believe him.


Once upon a time
there was a girl who longed to believe again that autumn leaves hid fairies,
and that the patterns in the sky
really were flying horses, and swans.
And she would go outside on summer nights,
and run for a while,
and lighting bugs danced around her.
And she told her daddy as she came back inside,
that an owl had told her a story tonight,
and she’d understood it.
But her daddy said she was being childish,
and she believed every word.