(Here is the final one of the four guest posts. A big thank you to all four of the bloggers who agreed to contribute so readily. It was a privilege to share your work here.

{illyria} is another blogger whose writing I follow. What I love about her writing is her virtuosity with the language. She can write about the most mundane thing and make it seem magical. Reading her I often marvel at the utter ease with which words seem to flow from her fingertips, whether it is writing about sensuality or about the little truths an average day contains. And last but not the least exploring her beautifully designed blog is a virtual treat for the senses. She does not usually post poetry on her blog so it is a pleasure to share this.)

young Peter Pan, he stood by my bed
he said,
“it’s Tuesday and my lost boys are somewhere
under your pillows”

i think i know what he means

my shoulders itch in the place where the wings used to be
and there are white sails on my feet
they are telling me to go out into the ocean
and play make-believe
but i said,
“i can’t swim, you see”

i think he knows what i mean

the lost boys are somewhere under the blankets
(not under the pillows, as children may expect)
he said,
“but i am not a child
only a wingless bird
with white skin for feathers”

young Peter Pan with his white skin
soft, smooth, fresh, freckled
except on his right hand
where he grasps his sword and goes off to war

© {illyria}