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ButterflyReverie

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Butterflies.

Fleeting Beauty.

Winged eyes.

Curled hair.

Joyous cries.

Orange juice.

Summers day.

No cares to burden

Or wounds to bind

How innocence lends to peace of mind.


How quickly it passes

Or so they say

Childhood blooms, then it fades away.


I remember the feel of their legs on my skin - barely a touch,

A whisper on my hand.

How short they last, but still they spawn.

So do we; we die

Yet,

Somehow go on.


Our years longer

in theory,

their two weeks but a shadow.

But maybe they show us the meaning

and weight

of moments we call hollow.

A passing wind

A light Summers rain

They come until

They leave again.


Oh, but how you show me how

precious these weeks,

days,

hours,

minutes,

seconds are.

How long they seem

Until

They are

Far.

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