Tags
Butterflies, Butterfly, Columbia River, Death, Life, mud swallows, Poem, Poems, Poetry, River, Rivers, Swallows, transformation
I am sun off water,
spirit, which takes form
Through transformation.
Metamorphosis:
Lowest belly creature,
To this fairytale life.
Yet, I am lost,
Somehow wandered
Between safe shores.
Water everywhere.
And the mud swallows,
Who make their nests
In the river banks,
Desperate for me.
You see, a pretty thing
Can suffer, too:
Frantic beating of wing.
In this short life,
I will both sing,
And cease to be.
Bits of Poetry 