Originally published in Planet Magazine No. 33 (March 2002).
The pixies dance
on Silbury Plain
where standing stones
anchor the sky —
mythic spirits soar
with eternal rites;
they braid the wheat,
shine their soft lights,
leave ritual marks
for other tribes to see.
The apes emerge
from their cities,
though their lenses flash
they don’t understand —
they only come out
when the sun is up,
the dance is done;
faerie touch faded
from primal glory
to last night’s mystery.
Poem copyright 2002 by s.c. virtes
Illustration copyright 2002 by Andy Miller
