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Where are the Butterflies? April 23, 2025

  • Gary Hunter
  • Apr 23, 2025
  • 1 min read

we’re losing

the dance of powdered wings

 

nectar drunk

through a straw

 

the most fragile breaths

to ever create wonder

 

butterflies fly without

buzz, hum or whoosh

 

it is flight, knit of silence

and wish

 

rising up like a surprise

as kids squeal and give chase

 

if children’s arms had feathers

delight would lift them too

 

I miss seeing them

like I miss the child inside me

 

butterflies are the innocence

we once moved in

 
 
 

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