Conjunctions by Nancy Scott

A large tree in the middle of green woodland. Large white text reads: Conjunctions. Smaller text reads: Discussing disabled characters in fairy tales and folklore.

No matter how we pray or sorrow,
no matter how we festoon bells and lights,
no matter how we wrap and sing and bake
and make lists of the futures we want,
this winter might be masked and frazzled.

Invoke a solstice astral alignment.
Bargain with politics and viruses
cajole the antique angel doorknob-dreaming.
Light a flameless candle in the back window.
Have cinnamon and old movies on hand.

Find one craftstore present
significant because it makes you laugh--
a little stuffed lion with glittery fur
and a unicorn horn; improbable
connundrum of strength and myth.

Mail the tailed talisman
on its perilous journey cross-country
to a land of tumbleweeds and dewless skies.
Your friend will shake his head
questioning long-distance intentions.

But some nights, we each need to believe.
Dancing toys, talking animals,
taps on the midnight roof.
Telescopes or televisions trained.
Everyone is looking for their cure.

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About the author: 
Blind American author Nancy Scott's over 975 essays and poems have appeared in magazines, literary journals, anthologies, newspapers, and as audio commentaries. Her latest chapbook appears on Amazon, The Almost Abecedarian. She won First Prize in the 2009 International Onkyo Braille Essay Contest. Recent work appears in *82 Review, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Braille Forum, Chrysanthemum, Kaleidoscope, One Sentence Poems, Pulse Voices, Shark Reef, Wordgathering, and The Mighty, which regularly publishes to Yahoo News.