Helen Frazee-Bower

Alien

Within the still, white room that gave me birth,

My body bloomed, the counterpart of two

Who bore me; but alone, across the earth,

Miles from that place, the heart they never knew

By wise moon fairies on a far high hill

Was being woven out of threads of mist;

Its fragile beauty was a thing more still

Than any lake the wind has ever kissed.

And I have borne it secretly within,

A shy soft wonder sleeping at my breast;

And such has been dissemblance I could win

That even those who bore me have not guessed,

When misty moonlight blows from tree to tree,

How near they are at last to finding me.