Letter from Lady Friday

5.8.19
Blue Cosmic Eagle

My dear sweet Rose,
I suffer not from the ailments that affect you mortals, though having heard through the eons of your travails I certainly do not envy your kind, and although I do sympathize I also rejoice without apology that I am above such afflictions.
You must visit dogwood where she stands up on the hill behind your abode, she is a tribute to beauty adorned in a profusion of white petals swaying amidst a stand of stalwart tulip trees and cranky pines; by now you have surely heard her barking? She has a raspy, gruff voice strangely at odds with her pretty appearance! Until recently she was quite quiet, standing still in a state of abject loneliness, her limbs drooping down and sagging. I had my eye on her, as the sense of quailing and ailing she was emitting caught my attention similar to how spider’s catch flies in their web’s woven fine. I sent two of my flock to pay her a visit with sweet music . . . don’t let my brother, Wednesday, tell you differently, he can be annoyingly convincing but be on your guard, while it’s true he has command over many birds, the little one’s who sing are under my domain. Have you listened to cardinal’s sing? Dogwood was immediately enamored and tuned herself to the lilting melody with all her heart, which of course all songbirds in the vicinity noticed and soon began to congregate on her limbs, vying for her devout attention. Entranced, she listened deeply day and night and before long new tunes joined in chorus, crickets, ants, bees, hickory’s creak, pine’s whispering, high and low all around from stars above to underground she heard a joyous symphony and suddenly she felt so full, so fat, so fertile, she burst into blossoming dance followed by opening wide to bark where she stands still, up on the hill, the happiest dogwood ever. These moments hold nectar and pollen for those in your world is what my one and only sister, Monday, tells me; while she’s a creature of shifting temperament she knows what she knows when it comes to your world.
Why dear Rose, I’m inspired, be a love and write her, she’ll be thrilled I’m sure, for when I shared with her your letter she said, “You’re always lucky in love Friday, everyone flocks around you,” and I swear I heard a tinge of jealousy mixed with yearning, which saddens me for I can abide neither to have afflicted my beloved sister so! Yes, write her beloved Rose, and do feed my messenger while he awaits your reply, he’s fond of nuts.

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