let me be your fairy godmother 

arrive in full color out of the blue 

& you, you can tell me about all the seeds

you’ve been sweeping from the floor

& me, i will listen, i will mother you,

i will send birds to finish the work

strewn across your desk;

when you are ready, i will do my best

to turn pumpkins into carriages. though forgive me

if first i make pumpkin soup and two mugs

of heavy black tea—this, this

is the mothering i know; steam as another layer

of glitter on my eyelids.

& let me take your shoes when you come in,

no need for glass slippers when we have socks

& let me walk you to the door when you leave

before or after midnight, i don’t mind

& let me be your fairy godmother;

you are not too old for someone to hold your hands, you know, 

to fawn over your fancy clothes

& make sure you get home safe.