The Painted Lady
Bold, bright as broach,
plucked from
a distant gaze to settle
the folds of a morning,
unmoved by the dappled light
twitched across its outstretched wings,
a sleeping butterfly
rolled up in a cardboard tube
and sent flying
halfway across a world
to here, still deep
in its dream.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2022
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