dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: butterfly

she sells
butterfly shadows
and handfuls of
cantaloupe strings
in a summertime stand
just off the fringe
of highway dust
and blurry pavement heat

she gypsy flings
earnings to
the breeze until
sound brushes through
her hair like wind chimes,  
dimes roll from pocket seams
like dreams,
not missed
unremembered


After the drum beats of severance,

A second where the soft things scream-

Butterfly wings rip from metallic seams,

Crocheted blankets feel the scissor blade,

Breath’s surface blisters into a sigh.


Small talk,

The first test of endurance

For a quickly swelling tongue.

Harder questions then are flung

Until hitting

The back of the throat,

They slide down

To the stomach where

Butterflies should flutter,

But instead a swarm of wasps

Sting each phrase,

You utter

Utter nonsense

Just to keep

Their veiny wings

Away.


Lightning bugs

In Mason jars

And poster board

Butterfly collections,

Death so natural

And pleasing to the eye,

Life all at once

So free and trapped

And unable to fly.


Simple and sweet

As a butterfly dance,

She floats along,

Barely brushing the ground

With her tiny toes,

Pink and soft as flower petals.

Stray silky wisps,

Like honeysuckle vines,

Escape the ribbon in her hair.

 


Seven sleepers

Wrapped in fuzzy

Bright blanket cocoons

Are attached

By nature’s law of rest

To mossy green carpet

On their classroom floor.

They wriggle and shift

In their slumber sacs,

Some breathing heavily

As they struggle

In dreams

To break free.