Poem -


Charcoal on white paper sketches blow away. 

The memories meander the air and dance like butterflies as she frees them. 

One moment in time, a snapshot of life like a blink of an eye just flutters away. 

She could catch them in a jar and keep them if she wished. 

Pin them down like exhibits in a drawer and never give them the chance to see the light of day. 

At least this way her butterflies live. 

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