Thursday, 25 March 2010

Painted Lady

Her thread legs test this hold
of woven fingers.
The only discernible weight
is that of her confusion:
tremulous wings try to lift
the weight of her want
to escape.
I unravel my hands - and she flies
over the hedge,
her leopard colours brighten
the meadows beyond. See,
how easily she claims her release.

4 comments:

Coastcard said...

A very graphic poem, Carol. It's blustery here today, but I hope I can feel spring unravelling in the wind! I'm still waiting for my first 2010 butterfly...

Crafty Green Poet said...

oh that's lovely, I'm waiting for butterflies today, they won't choose today I'd guess...

swallowtail said...

I appreciate the moment of release; I could feeeel it! and see it!

Thank you.

S.L. Corsua said...

I reckon one with wings would have a heightened escapist tendency. Confusion would serve as the wind beneath such a one's wings.

I like the line break after the sixth line, resulting to:

the weight of her want
to escape


Interesting, and with impact. Cheers.

from the field book

from the field book
An inspiring gift for anyone who enjoys watching nature.