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.