the butterfly's loping
flight carries it through
the country of the
leaves delicately, and
well enough to get it
where it wants to go,
wherever that is,
stopping here and
there to fuzzle the
damp throats of flowers
and the black mud; up
and down it swings,
frenzied and aimless;
and sometimes
for long delicious
moments it is perfectly
lazy, riding motionless in
the breeze on the soft
stalk of some
ordinary flower.
- JoinedJune 10, 2019
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highbliss
May 06, 2024 07:20PM
i'd love new friends!! reply if you're down tooView all Conversations