Poppies
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/507/1/Poppies/Page1.html
Brooke Ashley
I reside in Melbourne Beach, Florida. My joys include raising toddlers, writing poetry and dialogue, the beach, singing, storytelling, piano and reading. My writing objective is to challenge myself through rhyme and reason, or the lack thereof. By Brooke Ashley
Published on 07/16/2011
Clarity lost, clarity found.
Poppies
Gently pushed to the ground
The dominoes fall,
Mind
Body
Soul
Antennas burrow within the toile
Layers of fabric flutter
On flattened poppies.
Wings pinned down by aenids
The butterfly assumes a fixed position
Within a shadowbox
Snails braid hair
Softly tangled with grass
Pressed beneath the glass.
The ice cream truck drips music
Syrupy sonatas churn
The music box needs re-winding.
Night air sifts through the shadowbox
Night air becomes a batter
Heavy with sweat and sugar.
Morning light pushes upward
Soul
Body
Mind
The butterfly awakes
Dew melts the tips of grass
Butterfly escapes from the glass.
The dominoes fall,
Mind
Body
Soul
Antennas burrow within the toile
Layers of fabric flutter
On flattened poppies.
Wings pinned down by aenids
The butterfly assumes a fixed position
Within a shadowbox
Snails braid hair
Softly tangled with grass
Pressed beneath the glass.
The ice cream truck drips music
Syrupy sonatas churn
The music box needs re-winding.
Night air sifts through the shadowbox
Night air becomes a batter
Heavy with sweat and sugar.
Morning light pushes upward
Soul
Body
Mind
The butterfly awakes
Dew melts the tips of grass
Butterfly escapes from the glass.