wings
they are a pair
of unlikely butterflies
wings wide bright
cuddled in the night
one was blue
the other turns yellow by the light
as the clouds broke,
droplets of rain
dripped off their noses
collected in the gutters of their wings
one flew in a low temperance
one flew under a leaf
face sealed with grey dust
large eyes -
like pools of amber in a wasteland
he stared as the other fluttered
they were helpless
fall down to earth
as the other fell
the wet mud collected her
her blue wings forcedly opening
strugling, drowning.
from up north the other weeped
looked down below in disbelief
droplets turned to shower
and he couldn't bear it
any longer -
his yellow wings flung right through
diving... not caring...
but only thinking
of pulling up the other.
and so he tried, he dive
and in a split second
their eyes met
yellow wings covered the blue
they blended within the due
both their eyes now closed
both their eyes now dreaming
of that sunny summer day,
as they slowly melt away.
atomicvelvetsigh consumed the twilight @ 3:00 AM
3 Park your thoughts here:
I like the story that you have built up in this one. Very engaging.
The adult form of insects such as butterflies is called the imago, (plural: imagines.) I always loved this visual pun on these ethereal creatures and you certainly live up to it. I love the way you get certain phrases so right: in this one, for me, it's "the gutters of their wings."
i have two quotes in mind:
"My pleasures are the most intense known to man: writing and butterfly hunting"
- Nabokov
"The Green shadow floated with butterflies" - anonymous
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