Wendy's Regret

No matter how often she looked at the London skyscape,

Wendy could not find the star that had once led home—

yes, home, because that's what it had been—

where mermaids had swatted their tails at her,

pirates had skulked through wild terrain,

and Lost Boys had howled at the moon.

But what she remembered most was not flight,

or the taste of wild berries at her lips,

or even Peter's hand in hers.

No, what Wendy recalled was the hush of fairies

as their glowing bodies floated through air

and how they burst into being so easily,

called into life by babies' laughs so far away.

As she grew up, she wondered about so many things—

Hook and the crocodile,

the brood of motherless boys,

even stalwart Tigerlily and her tribe.

But Neverland was just a phase for her

(though she had wanted it to be her life)

while she passed from child to maid to wife.

It was only when she heard her daughter Jane

hiccup with a laugh that Wendy saw it,

just for an instant, there and then gone—

the shimmer of pixie dust, wafting,

as a fairy burst into life and flew away.

Wendy's heart swelled, and a moment later

her feet left the ground by a thimble's breadth

as she remembered what it was like to fly.

And just out of the corner of her eye

she saw a shadow depart by the window

and sail away straight on till morning.

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