Fluttering

A new poem. 9/12/2016.

Crackle, crackle, crackle-

Fluttering over the trickling stream

The butterfly, lynched and bruised

gasps for air to stay, to live

Living little more than

a life of solitude over the stream

Snap, snap, snapping-

things ever so common to those who flutter

to those who bring the joy

never given reassurement,

lest it be in the name of death

a life of nowhere

Tumble, tumble, tumbling-

little yellow butterfly is crying

Tears that form the stream

For there is nothing left,

but the rush of the water

butterfly flying; you're falling

Quiet, quiet, silence-

Left in the memoir is no more

left in the memory is not all but;

a trickling stream,

felled trees,

and a dead butterfly.

(by Jake Brunton 2016)