two worlds

Published on by Laura Bloomsbury 
a brisk breeze brushes off sultry summer from my skin 

through graveyard grasses it stirs to a tempest
old bones confined to rest listen for the last trumpet 

brown butterflies fling themselves like tumbleweed
half torn from its moorings, a spider's flag, filigreed
- in intermittent lulls we re-compose - in opposition

Taking up the Ragtag daily challenge of Wind with a cherita style poetry form


2 thoughts on “two worlds”

  1. I love the image – grasses in motion – wonderful. And also the word image of brown butterflies flinging themselves like tumbleweed – wonderful. It conveys perfectly the erratic nature of butterfly flight. 🙂

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