Alpine butterfly

The wind spins tall tales. She is a sprite that harnesses the cool or warm air and tosses it over your head. I love the wind in the mountains, in the cities, anywhere.

Thanks to Silence for helping me on this one! And contributing a few lines. It wouldn't be the same without.

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The wind,
she dances wildly.
Two steps up,
five steps down.

Her dueling partner,
the desert
crowds in on her,
on this diamond-clear night,
where shadow hives
of highland flora flirt
with buzzing lovers.

Morning dew
on fragile wing,
honey dripping
from green-feathered toes,
in a morning waltz.

Primordial winds,
out in blue-steel light
meet in fluttering unison,
like an alpine butterfly
joins the flower,
fitfully swaying to the touch,
of the desert…