Scream of the Butterfly

December 12, 2008 § Leave a comment

 

What is your birth name?
A number hidden in black flames.
A white cross
blowing in dross.
The center of existence
draws a circumference
around fluttering pages,
skipping through the ages;
miles long
of the millennium song-
never heard.
My knowledge of a word-
love-sent
in cities of detachment.
There are no rules,
no choices of schools.
Watch the season pass by
and greet the butterfly.
As she vanishes in the steeple,
so do the people.

 

© Sonya Rose

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