The fairy queen's child

There was a prisoner,
Hands flat to the sky,
Brambles enclosed her heart
And her mind was a fox
Snared by the brush of its tail.

Unseen, she slipped away,
And passed a grey day
And then another two
In the bustle of the city,
And summer was not a who,

But the pouring of heat
Through cafeterias; meat
With no exact name,
Slotted blinds, worksheets.
She wished she'd never came.

She saw a cross on a map
Reflected in the hub cap
Of a silver car: his own,
And it was her country,
But the seeds were sown-

What could she do?
She passed a day or two
Watching the new road,
And she felt flat, worn,
The bridge held her load,

Which she hated, felt
Maligned, she could melt
A sea of ice with her stare.
Where the river was,
Untreated sewage. There,

She had been green,
Purple; a rainbow,
And a pot of gold
At the heart of a flower,
The fairy queen's child.