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
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