I turn at the sound, startled. Was I meant to hear that? Your lift in A-Flat, your thrust in E, the down flap of each wing teasing the wind, a dance in minor chords trailing the sky with brilliant red song.
If that was for me, I am flattered you chose to grant me a momentary listen to the concerto of your wings.
3 comments:
I love the butterflies and the poetry too. Lyrical...
Dom,
I could just imagine the way a butterfly's wings must sound and couldn't help but write a poem! Thanks for stopping by.
beautiful poem...thanks for sharing.
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