You can’t and won’t see us
But in the centre right of the image
You might see shadows through the fog.
We are the tree people.
The sprites that mind the branches
We watch and protect the creatures
Numerous by number and name
In and around the trees you see.
We flit from branch to branch
Casting spells, lifting and placing
Rescuing when danger isn’t seen.
We celebrate life’s precious gift.
Behind the trees lives the grey lady
Old and bent she potters beneath our home
Picking up the fallen debris
Sweeping up the leaves in her red plastic bucket.
She’s one of us and has proved her worth
She nurses the fallen chicks in spring
The ones we occasionally miss.
We sense she knows we are here
For she looks about from time to time
Smiles that knowing smile of one who knows
That there is more to fantasy than obvious fact.
We long ago decided as one
To treat her fairly as she does us.
And so she goes about her business
As we go about our own
And every now and then we’ll hear
A voice comes wafting up each tree
“You boys have a good day now.’
You can’t see us I know
But we are here watching you
Just to the right of the central tree.