The healer admires the dashing rogue vixen:"...and how will I be there to catch you?"
|Thinks she's a bird and a cat!
—My darling, daredevil acrobat.
She knows I'll run to catch her,
Knows my spell will bring her back....
However far she might fall.
Climbs deadly-high atop the wall,
Death-defies without a wire
For little Becca's dusty ball?
Always questing, climbing higher
Then, playing dizzy, leaps and rolls
—Clever, brazen, showoff kitten!
But, at least, I'm there to catch her.
I have the strength to call her back...
However hard she might fall.
Oh, but when I turn away
That's when she flies into the night:
Darkened cloak and hardened leather
—My dear, all-spying raven goes!
She'll dance on rooftops, perch in windows.
And then look down from snatching stars
(From bedside tables, sleeping fingers.)
She'll count and log their private whispers
—In careless balance above the shadows.
How can I be there to catch you?
How can I know to bring you back?
I must be there to hear your call!
Author's note: This piece reflects characters mentioned in