She was born to catch butterflies on her tongue.
With shooting stars in her eyes,
she would wait for the rain
to wash the day
out of her hair.
Sitting on a small, dry patch of grass,
she closes her eyes
anticipating the flutter on her tongue.
As a child
she advised balloons
how to bounce and stretch.
She interrogated hens
until they told her
When she tires, she closes her eyes
and shrinks to the size of a pea,
and hides under a maple leaf
in the backyard.
She feels safe there
resting and dreaming
of a world filled
with butterfly wings.
- ► 2017 (91)
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- born to catch butterflies on her tongue
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- late one night
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- C'est la vie
- ▼ February (29)