Fairy Queen

I saw Fairy while I drove last Sunday night:
Through the trees, a faint white glow,
White glow that beckoned even as it wavered,
The fae queen flashing favor.
Far beyond my red light, past Harford road
And blocks of boarded homes, she called.
She, called the May fair queen (it seems), invited.
Dry leaves in me ignited.
Like the phantom bells of Ys that toll
From spires that have long sunken,
What is fallow, Faerie Queen, make whole,
Frozen as I sit here at this junction—
My chest screamed at me, "Goddammit
(drive forth),
Lightly so as not to rouse the
(engine),
Like a boat without a paddle."
This was not the first time she'd called to me.
I sat indecisive again.
Again, I felt swift wings beneath my rib cage
Like finches on a rampage.
Yes, I felt the urge to glide straight through the veil,
Thin between this world and the next,
But next I knew, I was turning left on Harford,
Away from what she'd conjured.

Like the phantom bells of Ys that toll
From spires that have long sunken,
What is fallow, Faerie Queen, make whole,
Frozen as I sit here at this junction—
My bones screamed at me, "Goddammit
(go back),
Quickly so the May queen knows you
(mean it),"
But, then, I was sure the moment
(had passed),
Anyway, I had an early
(morning),
Won't she call again when it's
(convenient)?
Or will magic call again for
(no one)?