Wax Butterflies

Wax Butterflies

I do still miss her you know
at least I do
occasionally ..  
and always in a panama hat ..
No, not the one you gave her
but similar ..
and sitting sipping water from
the same cracked stone jug ..
That’s how I often picture her
These days
and anyway ..
The last time, the day was a
bitch .. talk about hot
Even so .. those well-worn steps
were still cool
and kind of kind to the feet ..
Did I mention she
appeared to me, then to be
drowning and lost tho’ in my
oversized, paint daubed shirt ..
Yes the one,
that used to be mine
Tired as it was
and tied loose at the waist ..
Hey,
don’t you think she looked great
and yes
I noticed those same buttons
were missing 
and that look on her face,
the one that said
Yes, this is me and I’m free
Oh’ fuck .. for a moment or two
I almost forgot she was free ..
But hey ..
my imagination ran riot that day
and for all that I know
she may have just melted away
right there, before
these very blue eyes of mine ..
Much like that wax butterfly
she once took from the window
to protect
and keep out of the sun ..
As soon as I dared tho’ turn around
and look back,
They had both disappeared and were gone ...