After the heavy summer rains, the magic
of the ring might show up. Legend says
never step into a fairy ring, regardless of
who had made it, whether elves or witches
in a circle-dance or even by a dragon’s fiery
tail flaming the woodland floor into an arc,
they are portals to another world, another
universe that could forever imprison you
in an endless dance, the moon glowering
above, you lost in its timeless glare.
By John C. Mannone
John C. Mannone has poems appearing in North Dakota Quarterly, Le Menteur, Blue Fifth Review, Poetry South, Baltimore Review, 2020 Antarctic Poetry Exhibition, and others. His poetry won the Impressions of Appalachia Creative Arts Contest (2020). He was awarded a Jean Ritchie Fellowship (2017) in Appalachian literature and served as celebrity judge for the National Federation of State Poetry Societies (2018). His latest collection, Flux Lines: The Intersection of Science, Love, and Poetry, is forthcoming from Linnet’s Wings Press (2020). He edits poetry for Abyss & Apex and other journals. A retired physics professor, he lives near Knoxville, Tennessee.