Elf — by Dr. Yvonne Wong, Division of Arts and Languages

Elf

From my lips to the skies through the air
you dance, with the mist, shroud the needle tips
that fluff, then fly.
Dipping, dripping, gliding
into the darkness, in silvery dust
touching the moon, in green.

Your steps know no sound, on the wings of the wind
feathering, into the blue
brushing.