Where have you wandered, my cub, my youth,
Far from our fields, remote to jingoistic fellows,
Away, distant to skint relatives, self-promoting dragons,
Nowhere near familiar butterflies or dance halls.
Where have you sojourned, my kit, my innocence,
Routed after battle, skittering like spiders,
Missing, gone from silver webs, golden boudoirs,
Elsewise apart beneath unknown stars and moon.
Where have you traveled, my calf, my dream,
Lost among sky foam, confused by dawn’s colors,
Absent among otherworldly hues, space’s smells, strange musics.
Never to be flushed or otherwise buried in our mausoleum
AUTHOR BIO: KJ Hannah Greenberg and her hibernaculum of imaginary hedgehogs fly the galaxy in pursuit of assistant bank managers and gelatinous fiends. As well, they produce a bit of text. Such efforts appear in places like: AlienSkin Magazine, AntipodeanSF, Bards and Sages, Big Pulp, Morpheus Tales, Theaker’s Quarterly Fiction, The New Absurdist and Weirdyear.