The round face that I loved so well
lost in Nod\'s misty rivers
as I looked long by the railing
so utterly lost
in her
bowed serenely in larkish prayer.
The changeling was unaware-
slipping through time\'s filmy chaplet
wreathed by fireflies and melody
she fell
into inevitable chrysalis.
Baby\'s breath flickered
in that last exhale.
Furled smoke emerged
ocean-eyed
flutterby.
I wept to wet her wings.