Tuesday, January 13, 2009

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.


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…