On Wings

I would like to fly away to soar in the wind, to dip and glide and be detached and apart from all reality where the past shrouds my life although sealed by a door chained . . . Oh, to flutter on the edge of memory to tremble and hover grasping like a breathtaking butterfly with gossamer wings but then, then . . . the cold finger of the past comes creeping monsters and sorrows that shatter my soul and the beautiful is lost in the carnage leaving me to this eternal sadness so, I keep the door to the past closed . . . with padlock and heavy chains and the battle with anguish and happiness rages endlessly hidden why can it not rest in peace . . . But the past is a strong warrior and I, but a butterfly with gossamer wings yet from time to time a whispering memory finds a way from under that weighty door and I hold that sweetness to my heart . . . ____________________________ May 7, 2017 Poetry/Free Verse/on wings Copyright Protected, ID 17-898-691-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Submitted to the contest, 25 lines sponsor, Brian Strand Seventh Place