By: Foxseaone~



in the tall grass of summer

I imagine

the cluster of irises on the hillside

are really

butterflies waiting

for dusk

to unfreeze their wings.

When the wind caresses their petals

I watch


for they are anxious

to return to the air

without their roots tethering them.


I am just a spectator,

but I have also

been seduced

by the sun.

Absorbing it all

I imagine

I hear them swaying and whispering

to the wind

to release their wings.

While we sleep

they escape.


In the morning their

petals scatter throughout

the field

flying without intent.

Only their roots


eager to regenerate

and ascend

from oblivion.


 C.S. Fox