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bound between two pieces of cardboard
there uncurled a delicate pale bloom
intricate
delicate
fluttering, folding and unfolding
as if shyly courageous
daring
almost whispering
almost breathing
                stroke the smooth petals gently
                the fresh pollen stains your fingers

black ink

the wearied gardener lays there on the grass
sleeping
a butterfly trapped between her eye and freedom
a pen tucked behind her ear
©2009 ~RJWhisper
:iconrjwhisper:

Author's Comments

This is one of my favorite and oldest poems that I have ever written.

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March 16
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