Twiglet #267


stepping toward
the glass back door, I saw myself
and a butterfly behind
like a live earring, 

it rather 
suited me 
but it flew away
leaving my short short hair
and  a face that’s less sure

than ever before
maybe age
is just an opening of the heart
and truth is the butterfly
fragile and momentary

Written for Twiglet #267 “falling off”

24 thoughts on “Twiglet #267

  1. This is the 1st thing I’ve read today (I haven’t even brewed the coffee yet!) and I’m already blown away to the point which (regardless of how much coffee I drink) I’ll never feel like whatever Twiglet I might produce will be anything more than a mere shadow to this poem’s greatness.
    What a phenomenally perfect image, that reflective butterfly earring.

    Oy. I gotta go sip some Black Sumatra & contemplate. Thanks for the trigger.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This is one of those poems that gives the reader pause for a few moments… This is beautiful in every way, and as stated by others here, the butterfly earring imagery is sublime. Such a delicate touch! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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