GROUNDSKEEPERS
There’s that one-lane road
before the bluffs
Is that one house. You know
the one. Faded pink wood
Siding with dark green trim
Weathered to almost grey
with crab grass and bald patches
running the length of the lawn
A quarter mile from door
to mailbox. And that tree
bark curling
from the trunk from age
and neglect.
The tree with the tiny door
Between two roots
The one that leads to the fairy dwelling.
That is the house. Kids throw rocks
at it. The fairies don’t like that.
Also, they do not like children.
Nor do they have scruples.
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