11/07/2025
You are a granite butterfly
Drifting in the meadow
Your wings beat heavy
Your body levies
A weight you do not know
The flower’s fare
This weight, they bear
A price they’d gladly spare
And as you leave
To their reprieve
Such life left worn from wear
The flower stays
Still bent from days
Of waiting with despair
And though so pined
It’s stem refined
It waits for weight so fair