Day 402: On Wings
∴
come to me.
these words flit
like butterflies on a breeze,
unkept and traveling,
dodging drops
and the beaks of birds
to go out –
out as far as they will –
to bear,
and then
back home.
home is a sun soaked tree
whose leaves
are the breathing wings of me,
where the young ones, leaving
and the old ones, restored
dance in equal measure
with complimentary accord.
∴
