As the Butterflies
It flies with the grace of a running doe.
I follow behind watching as it turns and dips then soars.
It lands on the branch of a tree and slowly moves it's wings up then down...
Up and then down...
Suddenly in flight it travels high into the sky.
It doesn't stay high very long, as if sensing it's audience is losing sight.
Gradually it allows me to catch up and nearly touch it.
The brilliant yellow of its wings seems like a dream.
Nearly unnatural, it's beauty is breath taking.
As its flight takes it to a stream and then across I can only watch.
I watch as it seems to disappear in the distance.
Was it even really there, or could I have simply imagined the beauty I long for?
Copyright © Scott Williams | Year Posted 2015
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment