Wednesday, February 23, 2011

The White Butterfly

I saw a butterfly of snow

Falling and dancing
With the power of the wind
It couldn’t fly with it’s of frozen wings
It couldn’t love the sky or embrace the sun.
Its form only held a glacial heart.
There was no soaring toward the sun to gather warmth.
It could only fall downward in a spiral
On to the frigid white ground
Where it was lost; and never to be seen again.
                                 --Pasty Dunbar

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