One Little Butterfly -Part 1-
-another older poem re-posting -sorry!
Dark winds blow in an unwept hollow
Parting the dreary pathway to my abode
A syringe of chills inject my quivering pores,
A lifeless shutter—the single life near to alone
The space between waiting for the inevitable pull of tears,
The feeling of my hair swiping about my face,
Relieves me little from the breeze of whispering disgrace,
As light slowly begins to dim away
I feel the ache of the chill freeze my veins,
Because I remember…just how happy they were
I see the warmth and smile of every face
I see even her—dimming as the light fades
Another shutter brings me to hysterics, stammering at the sky,
Cursing the past—an alien-crazed lullaby
Words fall in an abyss of stillness
Never arising but arousing every inner bitter
A once sunny resemblance of wing-shaped hope
Is but a shattered illusion of fate
The brink of autumn mutters reveries
As fragments of summer and spring descend
A flock of mirrored leaves—dry as death’s gaping mouth
And colder than the stranger’s heart
My arms outstretched—my tears aloof
Eyes glued to the skies—where the treetops glower
As the brown and tomb-stoned leaves began to shower
One little leaf is suddenly seen within a gleam
As the remaining sun droops its eyes in a pensive doze
The wind allows those leaves to soar—only for a moment, till they drop
My eyes remain glued to that gleam before me
That one little leaf falls like all of the others
But it is strange how it floats and sinks
Lightly—charmingly—differently…
Though lifeless, cold…and dead
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
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