by Richard Trotter
If thoughts are left long enough
will they change into butterflies
rampaging beauty with a ghostly flicker
fluttering against an ageing canvas
and concentrating on the fog?
Wooden wheels rattle down the lane
You, pensive in the desolate yard
but crumbling bricks can be rebuilt
Smooth the edges in my selfish ending
how mist makes you more lovely.
So I'll set alight each heavy page
and watch them burn in delight
lifting the load from the future
ashes drift into the smog
and our last days are precious
Posted on 05/10/2006
Copyright © 2020 Richard Trotter
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Megan Langley on 07/14/06 at 02:10 PM|
This poem has easily become one of my new favorites... I absolutely adore the first two lines--"If thoughts are left long enough / will they change into butterflies..." I can picture and hear the wooden wheels rattling along with the rest of the scenes you create. The way you wrap it up with "our last days are precious," connects so well with the first two lines. Brilliant as always.
|Posted by Scott Utley on 07/19/09 at 07:19 PM|
I am in LOVE with this!
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/10/15 at 03:49 PM|
A great POTD! So many great lines in this. I'm glad to have read it. Favorite.